


Double Backer BLUs

by Poputchikz



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Action/Adventure, BLU (Team Fortress 2), Drama & Romance, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, I’m sorry for any cliffhangers, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Mystery, Romance, Secret Relationship, Self-Insert, Slow Burn, i swear im not dead hi guys hehe, we just really love this croissant man, when i say slow burn i mean slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 71,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24265354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poputchikz/pseuds/Poputchikz
Summary: Being offered a job promotion with handsome pay, you are hired as the head manager/assistant for the mercenaries at RED. When the BLU Spy discovers you on accident, he becomes intrigued by your presence and attempts to get to know you better.... Little did he know he was embarking on a journey he would never forget.A BLU Spy / Reader slow-burn with asprinkleof adventure.
Relationships: BLU Spy/You, Spy (Team Fortress 2)/You
Comments: 107
Kudos: 132





	1. The Offer

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my very first fanfiction!
> 
> This is a work I have been posting on Wattpad mainly, but I wanted to reach out to more people to see what they think :)
> 
> I have a few chapters completed already, so I will let each one out with some time between them (I am new to ao3 so I am not sure how the algorithm works just yet.)
> 
> Quick Notes:  
> -I use female pronouns to describe the reader (my apologies, it was my go-to)  
> -If there is any NSFW I will make it into a separate chapter with a warning so you are free to skip if you'd like
> 
> Anyways! I hope you all enjoy _Double Backer BLUs_

It wouldn't be right to describe your job as the most exciting thing about you. Though, it most certainly knows how to keep a roof over your head and food on the table. Even more so considering there is no presence of a spouse or significant other. With some excess money and only a 40-hour workweek, you did not mind your position as a secretary at TF Industries.

It was like any other office job. You could wear any type of business casual clothing as long as it had some shade of gray. Plus, you got to do an array of "exciting" jobs: answering and redirecting phone calls, filing paper documents, scheduling meetings, the whole shebang. What made the job somewhat more tolerable was the people you worked with. Since your arrival to TF, your coworkers have welcomed you with open arms as if you've worked there your entire life.

Over the years the industry grew larger and larger, but you did not mind. For it _felt_ like nothing has changed. There are more workers to interact with and a few more visits to the copying machine, otherwise that was all. Being with the company for over five years has made you accept that maybe, just _maybe,_ this was your calling. This desk job wasn't too bad, and maybe at some point, you would find someone to settle down with and start a family. Receiving small raises as you rank higher in seniority, you could live a pretty peaceful and modest life.

It was then on that unusually warm spring day, _things were going to completely change._

"(L/N)," A voice buzzed through the speaker on your desk. It was your head manager. "Come to my office. Someone from corporate is here to see you." The speaker buzzed once again to indicate the connection was cut off. You raised a brow.

"Corporate...?" You mumbled. Why do they want to see _you?_

Nevermind, you shook off the thought and got up from your seat. Individuals from "higher-up" are normally on tight schedules; you shouldn't keep them waiting.

You walked across the building to your manager's office was. The blinds on the glass windows were pulled down so nobody could peak in. You approach the sturdy wooden door and knocked on it just loud enough for someone to hear you from the other side.

"Come in," A gruff voice called out. You twisted the knob to enter.

Your manager stood from his chair as you entered. He had a small smirk on his face as a fat cigar protruded from his lip. On the opposite side of the desk stood a woman with a small figure. She wore a modest purple dress and her hair was back in a low bun. Her glasses hung low on her face as she gave you a friendly smile. She was holding a few manilla folders against her chest with papers that poked out.

"You wanted to see me?" You questioned, looking at the two.

"Yes. Miss Pauling here wanted to speak with you in private." Your manager began to stroll towards the door.

Pauling... That name sounded familiar to you. You just couldn't figure out _where._

"Take as much time as you need. I'll be in the break room getting coffee." He concluded as he walked passed you and out of the room. You shut the door behind you gently.

"Come, have a seat." She gestured to the seat next to her warmly. You sat down and observed her face some more. She _definitely_ looks familiar. "It is nice to see you, Miss (L/N). I believe this isn't the first time we have met. Let's see..." She trailed off and tapped her chin trying to recollect. Her eyes sparkled with a finger snap. "Oh, yes! TF Expo last year, wasn't it? You went with the same manager we were just talking to. You were one of the nice ones the Administrator and I worked with."

Just as she finished talking it suddenly clicked. Now you remembered her! How could you forget? "That's right...! I remember you! We worked at the same booth for a little while. It's nice to see you again. And please, you can call me (Y/N)." 

Miss Pauling flashed another smile. "Well (Y/N), I came here today to give you an offer." She jumped right into it, putting the folders on the table. She opened one of them to reveal a few photographs. Some consisted of a few images of a small town, but the rest showed large facilities based in various locations. Most of which seemed to be in a desert-like area. What caught your attention the most was that the large buildings had a bold, yet still rustic, red shade to them.

_How Interesting._

"What you're looking at is a subsidiary company of ours called Reliable Excavation Demolition, or _RED_ for short. Like the name alludes to, they operate "demolition" operations. Breaking down buildings and such, as you obviously know...." Her words almost... _drabbled_. As if what she was explaining was not very important information to take in. There was a pause as Pauling hummed to herself before continuing, "... Aaaand, there's a little bit more than that... We can just leave it at "a lot of confidential building operations" for now. More on that later. Since this company is rapidly growing, it is difficult for me, one of the only assistants from a higher level, to travel back and forth to every location to give orders. We are looking for an assistant to help facilitate guidance from the 'higher-ups' back to its employees." You were caught by surprise; disbelief was only beginning to describe it.

"You're offering me to take that position?" You asked starstruck.

"Of course! Out of the list of recommendations, _you_ were the one who was tested most suitable for the job. You were single-handedly picked by the Administrator _herself._ She sent me here to meet you since she could not do it herself. You will have to abide by a contract, much similar to the one you signed entering this company. There is a mandatory contract time that needs to be served before you choose to back out. You will be living within RED's headquarters during that time."

"Where would I be moved to?"

"Near a place infamously known as the 'Badlands'. It is located in New Mexico, so it's quite some distance from here." You bit your bottom lip, starting to have some doubts. That _was_ some distance from where you are. "I should also mention," She continued while pulling out a small packet of paper. A pen hung from the folder. She took the bottom part of the pen and began pointing at regions of the papers that correlated with what she was talking about. "You would be under contract for a little more than half a decade-- about six or seven years. During your time working, you are guaranteed to be paid quite bountifully." Her pen drifted towards the salary range. The tight feeling in your jaw was let loose. You could not believe your eyes.

"You will start your job by making around 350 thousand annually. For each given year passes an additional 50k is added to your salary. By the end of your contract, you will be making around 650 thousand. Combine that with whatever else you have made in past years, and you have yourself a good pocket of cash! The job also comes with only the best health insurance around." It was almost _too_ good to be true. A smile began to spread on your face, chuckling in disbelief. "Oh, did I mention that you will be traveling all across the world? RED has industries on almost every continent. Wait-- scratch that, ... _every_ continent." This is insane, all for a _demolition company?_ There's no way. You couldn't believe it; you just couldn't.

"So, what do you think?" Miss Pauling sighed. It was quite the mouthful she ran through, so she must be nearly out of breath. The excitement on your face was worth it, though.

"Are you sure you've got the right person? This is like- a _major_ upgrade from what I'm doing now... Am I really competent for the job?" You needed to be reassured; this isn't some show or book. It HAD to be too good to be true.

"Well, you are (Y/N) (L/N). It says right here on the page... You'll never know until you try, right?" Miss Pauling tucked a lock of hair that fell astray behind her ear. You began to buzz with joy. This was freaking awesome!

"Where do I sign? When do I begin??" A flurry of questions is all you had for the young woman. Miss Pauling let you ramble on and collect yourself before continuing. She pulled out another stack of papers fixed together by a paperclip.

"This is what you will be signing. Take your time to skim through if you'd like. There's a lot of detail in there I will ensure to tell you on our way to headquarters when we meet next." You only lightly brushed over the paperwork. Taking the pen from the woman, you began to sign and date in the areas it requested you to do so (with a little extra guidance from Pauling). Once you were finished, you put the papers in a neat stack and handed them back to the girl. Securing them with the paperclip, she slid them into a folder. Pauling stood up and extended an arm out for a handshake. You slowly accepted the gesture.

"Welcome to the team, Miss (L/N). It was a wise decision you chose, very _very_ wise." You felt her grip tighten a little on your hand. It was quite peculiar, but you tried to ignore it.

"What should I do to get ready?" You rephrased. Miss Pauling let go of your hand and quickly glanced at her watch. Her eyes grew, she must have been running behind schedule.

"Let's see, it's Tuesday, isn't it? We need you up and ready to work by next Monday morning. We have a flight scheduled for you on Saturday at noon. I will be waiting for you at the airport. Please, arrive two hours prior to our flight... I will give you more details from there." She began to grow fidgety as she collected the other files sprawled on the table. "It was nice seeing you again, (Y/N). I see a lot of potential in you. I need to get going, tell your manager I said thank you for letting me speak to you." Her pace became swift as she reached for the door. You waved farewell even though her back was turned.

"It was nice seeing you again too, Miss Pauling." You added. She began to open the door before she froze.

"Oh, and (Y/N)?"

"Yeah?"

"Please do not speak about your association with RED to your other coworkers. This is a _very_ classified job. We will have to go to **great** measures of punishment if we find out information is floating around."

A small pit sat in your stomach. Her tone came off as unnerving compared to earlier. 

"I... promise." You trailed.

"Good! Seeya Saturday!" Miss Pauling returned to her peppy manner as she left you to stand in your manager's office alone... speechless.

_What exactly are you getting yourself into?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revisions: 09/09/2020, 01/21/2021 ;)
> 
> (No plot additions are added to revisions!)


	2. The Teufort Expedition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation after the offer given to you by Miss Pauling. It's time to take a trip! :)

"It was great working with you, (Y/N)." One of your coworkers placed his hand on your back. A small box on your desk was filled with all kinds of at-work trinkets. You finishing collecting the last of your things when a group of your closest colleagues came by to say one last goodbye.

"We are going to miss you greatly, dear." Another one spoke. She was more towards on the elderly side; always such a sweetheart. You smiled from ear to ear. It was Friday, and your adrenaline was pumping, looking towards starting a new chapter in your life. A fresh beginning-- a new calling! The opportunities that came with this job ran wild in your mind.

"I'm going to miss you guys, too. But the time has come. Family calls, y'know?" You simply shrugged. Your coworkers were surprised to find out about your sudden job change. Following what Miss Pauling advised, you decided to come up with an excuse that you were moving back near your mother to help run 'the family business.'

It was oddly peculiar to the group, for they did not know that your family owned a business. Or let alone, if you _had_ family in general. You never had brought them up in a conversation. They did not question it further, though. They trusted you; they have since the day they met you.

"Make sure to send a letter if you can! We'll want to hear from you." A girl around your age spoke. She was always a wonderful person to chat with during your lunch break. You giggled.

"I'll make sure to find some time to write to you guys," It was then you checked your watch. Jeez! Your landlord will be coming to make final configurations about vacating the space soon. You had to get a move on. "I hate to cut it short, but I need to get going. Take care, everyone!" You picked up your stuff and scurried to the entrance of the building. All the while hearing the distant goodbyes of once-considered work pals. 

*******

Seven o'clock on Saturday morning. Today was the big day. You grudgingly rolled off the couch, for you had already gotten rid of your mattress, and slumped to the bathroom. As you got ready and became more awake, you grew more thrilled. You called a cab and loaded up whatever minimal stuff you kept. Finally, you placed your apartment room and mailbox key in the landlord's inbox, just as he instructed. 

It was almost a two-hour drive to the airport in Seattle. You held a small envelope that contained your plane ticket that "mysteriously" slipped into your mailbox the night of your job offer. It also read that you were to meet Miss Pauling at gate D42.

Your luggage was loaded, and you brought your carry-on bag with you while floating across the airport for the correct gate. It took a while, but you eventually found it. It was only around 9:30. Miss Pauling was not there yet. So, you sat patiently and read a book waiting for her.

At five before 10, you saw her purple dress rush your way. A friendly smile rested on her face.

"Ah, it seems you made sure to get here extra early. I like your thinking." She complimented. The only thing she had with her was a small briefcase.

"As I mentioned before, I'm gonna give you more details about your job." Her attention was drawn away for a split second before returning. "There's a small built-in diner not too far from here. Want to get a bite to eat and I can explain there?" You nodded and grabbed your belongings, making your way to the restaurant.

After receiving your dishes, Miss Pauling was quick to talk business. "As you know already you will be working as an assistant of some sort... uhh, now that I think about it... More as a manager...?" She took a sip of coffee, uncertainty lingered in her voice. "Whatever. You will be working with a group of nine mercenaries." 

This fact shocked you. Wasn’t this supposed to be a demolition company? "Wait, wait, mercenaries, as in like, _private soldiers?"_ You asked.

"That's right. You don't need to worry, though. This isn't some sort of boot camp training. You won't be out on the field fighting. You'll have other duties to attend before, during, and after combat. Prepping supplies before departures; stuff like health kits, supplies, and ammunition; observation to see if important artifacts and documents are safe; making sure the mercs are keeping the base clean; ensuring people like the Administrator and myself still have a strong connection with base-- along with other jobs."

Your head was swimming, there was so much to take in. This made you thankful that she didn't lay it all on you just as she was pitching the position a few days ago. You listened cautiously.

Mercenaries, huh? That certainly caught you off guard. You were expecting to be working more in an office as you did in the past; helping corporate employees direct demolition workers on their projects. Was that just a cover-up? This left room for confusion. You bit down on your tongue. Do you dare ask? You weren't disappointed... just extremely surprised.

"We already have a list in the making of tasks you'll do starting Monday. Once you get used to your position, you will probably find more things to add along with. The easiest way to put it; you'll be a _very_ busy woman." Miss Pauling had this minuscule smirk on her face. Her tone as she spoke was very factual, too. This definitely was _not_ her first time giving background on a job like this. "Oh, I should also ask you," her head cocked to the side. "do you know how to shoot a gun?"

Where you grew up there wasn't much need for guns. It was a very safe community, and your family also weren't big-time hunters. The only time you remember shooting a gun is at a range with your dad and some of his buddies when you were very, _very_ young. "Uhm... Not really." You spoke quietly, your attention falling to the meal in front of you.

"Don't worry about it. We will make sure some of the guys teach you. It's not a skill that is required, but it may help you _greatly_ in the long run." Miss Pauling checked the time.

11:15. 

She turned back to your attention, "The base you will stay at is named '2Fort'-- I almost forgot to mention that part. Other than that... That’s really all I have for you. Some other details may come up as we get closer to headquarters. Otherwise, you should be set."

The two of you ended up sitting and chatting for another 15 to 20 minutes. It was then when you realized, outside of talking about work, Miss Pauling seemed to come off as a little more reserved, or slightly uncomfortable, with casual conversation. You didn't mind, she was nothing but respectful as you spoke. In part, you returned the favor as she talked. After some time the two of you paid and returned to the gate for your flight.

*******

You landed at a small regional airport in Santa Fe. Miss Pauling had a cab already waiting for the two of you after you got your luggage. It drove you out of the city and into the uninhabited desert.

The drive was long. It seemed _much_ longer than the flight. It was roughly around three hours of nothing but small talk between the driver and Miss Pauling and staring out the window at the minimal scenery. You were once wearing a gray cardigan, but by this time it was off as you sat in your white short-sleeved dress shirt sweating your tail off. The A/C was running, but it was overwhelmed by the sweltering heat from outside. Everyone was uncomfortable by its intensity.

"Next time, I'll have to find another cab..." Miss Pauling mumbled. You smiled at her comment. She held a clasped hand towards her chin. Her eyes gazed out the window as a look of relief washed over her. "Nevermind that, we're here."

You peered out the window. A small sign was barely on its poll. It read _'Welcome to Teufort: America's Gravel Basket'._ It was a medium-sized town; bigger than what you expected to be in the middle of nowhere. Was this the place you were staying in? The name sounded similar to what Miss Pauling described at the airport. Upon entering, the cab stopped at the corner of the town square.

"We're here, ladies. Do you want me to wait until your ride comes around?" The cab driver offered. On the dashboard, the clock read six o'clock right on the dot. Miss Pauling shook her head.

"That won't be necessary. Our ride will arrive any minute."

"Well, then you two take care. Keep hydrated, it gets really dry this time of year." He advised.

The two of you thanked him and got your things from the back. When the cab drove off the two of you sat at a bench nearby. About five minutes passed before Miss Pauling showed distress. "What is taking them so long? When I say six o'clock sharp. I mean six o'clock _sharp."_ She crossed her arms. You observed the area around you.

At the center of town square stood a large statue of a horse with a small lengthy man crouched near it. Heaping piles of junk enclosed the center. It stunk _horribly._ The wooden sign read _'Teufort Town Square City Dump'._ What an odd place to put it. Behind you, a little store named _Mann Market_ had a light shining through the window and onto the bench. You got an idea.

"Well, while we wait, I can run in and get us some water or something." You offered, but Miss Pauling shook her head.

"You can get something, I'm fine. Just make sure the water you buy is big-brand bottled water. This town's water system has been contaminated with large amounts of lead for _years."_ That explains _a lot_ about town's... _architecture choices._ You went in and bought yourself a drink. As you returned to the bench, a white beaten up truck chugged nearby. On the outside, the logo read 'RED Bread'.

"It's about time!" Pauling shot up from her seat with her hands to her hips. A sour look hung on her face as the truck inched closer. The two passengers in the window didn't look happy seeing Miss Pauling's expression. A young man with a cap and headset sat in the driver's seat. He looked the most troubled out of the two.

The truck halted as the passenger side door struggled to slide open. A man in goggles and a hardhat sat beside the boy. There was a moment of tension in the air. Looks were exchanged through the thick silence. It was then the one in the driver seat spoke up in an awkward tone. 

"Uh-... heyyy... Miss Pauling..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revisions: 09/09/2020, 01/21/2021 ;)


	3. Grays For REDs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to RED :)

"Fifteen minutes," Miss Pauling hissed. "I told you guys to be here right at six, Scout. And what do you do?" She left the question for him to answer. The young guy, seemingly named Scout, rubbed the back on his neck nervously.

"Uh... We showed up fifteen minutes fashionably late?" His voice crescendoed higher as he answered the question with uncertainty. It had a thick Bostonian accent to it. Miss Pauling lifted her glasses and squeezed the bridge of her nose.

"If it makes it any better, we ran into those bastards on the way here." Scout tried to relieve the pressure of the situation. The man in the hardhat sighed.

"What he means by 'those bastards' is we accidentally crossed paths with a BLU truck." The man had a calm southern accent. It was like listening to a kind relative who you never see. "Though, _his_ unnecessarily bad driving skills almost got us killed." He batted a hand into the boy's shoulder. Scout shot him a look from behind.

That must explain why the truck looked so bent out of shape. Since the truck was up closer now, you noticed there were a few punctures on the side of the truck; bullet holes. 

_Oh boy._

__

The sound of two metal doors slammed open from the back of the vehicle. "Hello, Miss Pauling! I am here also!" A raspy voice boomed out. He turned the corner and gave a salute with a goofy grin. A military helmet layered over his eyes. Everyone's attention then was quickly drawn to you.

__

"So, 'this the new merc, huh?" Scout questioned.

__

"She isn't a mercenary, she's your supervisor. Her name is (Y/N)." Miss Pauling introduced you to the men, you felt a little relieved she did so for you. To be frank, you were pretty nervous. You couldn't pinpoint why, but it was just the feeling you get in your stomach when you are anticipating something to happen. The pressure isn't relieved until that event happens.

__

The man in the hardhat gave you a friendly smile, "It's nice to meetcha, darlin'. You can call me Engineer or 'Engie' for short if ya'd like." He took his thumb and forefinger and lightly tipped his hat to you. You let out a friendly laugh. He seems like a nice person. Engineer then pointed a gloved thumb behind him. "This here's Scout, as you may have figured out."

__

"Yo, what's up?" The boy replied with a cunning smirk on his face.

__

"Aaand this is Soldier." His hand pointed at the man in the military helmet. In exchange, Solider turned in Miss Pauling with a straight face.

__

"Miss Pauling, you promised you would bring us an _American._ Not a woman!" He exclaimed. His statement confused you.

__

"But, I am American..." You trailed off.

__

"Eh, don't take anything that chucklehead says too seriously. He's like this all the time." Scout chimed in.

__

"That sounds like something a _traitor_ would say! Who are you working for?" Soldier snarled. He tried to move up to talk right into your face, but Miss Pauling obstructed his path.

__

"Now, now. We can all get comfy and know each other in the truck. We're on a tight schedule here!" The woman announced.

__

"And _I'm_ driving this time." Engineer stated distastefully.

__

Scout slid open his door side grumbling, "Jeez, yeah, fine. Whatever." After everyone was situated, the five of you were well on your way. The truck departed from the opposite side of the town. As soon as you knew it, you were driving into the desert setting sun.

__

__

*******

__

__

This ride went by a lot quicker than the previous trips. It felt a lot shorter than the alleged 45 minutes that Miss Pauling calculated. It must have had to do with getting to know the other three along the way. Just as you expected with first impressions, Engineer was a kind man. He told you a little bit about 2Fort along with some of the buildings and projects he enjoys to make. Soldier intimidated you at first, after some time you got used to his behavior. Some of the stuff he said seemed outrageous at times, but it was somewhat comedic. As for Scout, a good majority of the time was allocated towards smooth-talking you and Miss Pauling. You both promptly disregarded his action. He was a very talkative individual, but he didn't seem like a horrible guy. None of them seemed that bad.

__

"Ladies and gents, we have arrived back to 2Fort. Say hello to RED's headquarters." Engineer announced. You looked through the front windshield from the back of the truck. A huge facility stood prominently in the desert dusk. It had that red shade you saw in the pictures you were shown. The structure fits to a tee, but you weren't expecting it to be _this_ big.

__

The truck pulled into a large garage unit, the five of you spilled out of the vehicle.

__

"Come along now, (Y/N). Everyone else is inside waiting to meet you." Engineer said. The other three lead the way as you follow suit. That nervous feeling grew in your stomach again. You didn't know what you were expecting about the others. You didn't want to ask out of fear, and willingness on your part to get to know them personally.

__

Your group entered into a large joint dining room-kitchen space. Scattered between the two areas were six other men who either conversed with one another or sat by themselves. All of them glanced in your group's direction upon your arrival.

__

"Everybody, we are back! And we found Miss Pauling along the way!" Soldier announced to them. None of which responded. There was a pause before the woman in the purple dress cleared her throat and stepped forward.

__

"Guys, this is the new member of your team. Why don't you introduce yourself?" Her hands gestured toward you. She looked back at you waiting for a response. You put one hand up and waved gently to the other six in the room.

__

"Hello, I'm (Y/N) (L/N)." You said just loud enough for everyone to hear you. There was a pause that hung in the air. Your eyes scanned the room in anxiousness. Were you supposed to say anything else? Oh God, it's been silent for too long! Maybe you should elaborate, "I... I'm your team's intern?" You spoke as if it were a question.

__

Oh no, and you said intern! It made it sound you were their underling rather than their supervisor!

__

You felt the heat from your mistake radiate off your face and you were about to correct yourself, but it was too late. The other men who sat all gave light chuckles at your response.

__

Miss Pauling flashed you a reassuring smile. Her head returned to the other men and she spoke once more, _"Actually,_ she is more like your guy's manager. Yes, while she takes on more assistant-like roles, in the end, she holds a higher status within the corporation."

__

"Aye, I think I prefer that lass as an intern more than a manager!" A man with a Scottish accent exclaimed. He held a giant jug of... something... in his hands. It looked like an alcoholic beverage, but you could not make out what kind. After his response, the other men erupted into a louder fit of laugher. You chuckled awkwardly along with them.

__

Your nerves were on overdrive. You were afraid something like this would happen. Although, you don't want to come off as too sensitive in front of these guys. They're the ones you will have to work with for quite some time. In a way, you were going to have to adapt in some form or another. So to simply laugh it off was the smartest decision.

__

The only one who didn't chime in on laughter was a man that wore a red balaclava. He took an inhale on his cigarette. His attention was fixed on a tiny book in his other hand. "If I were you, I would watch your mouth. Keep in mind she _will_ have contact with the Administrator." His reply was clearly directed at the Scottish man. His voice was quite satisfying to listen to. A heavy French accent mixed with fluent English, which made it all the better to hear. The noise from the other men died down. You felt your anxiousness fall after he spoke. His tone did not seem to be as if he was exactly advocating for you, but it helped suppress some of the worries you felt from the other guys laughing.

__

"I have already given you all the basic rundown of her reason for being here. She knows her responsibilities as well. I'll keep this quick in that case," Miss Pauling began. "You all are expected to treat Miss (L/N) with respect. Each of you are colleagues, and the only way you are going to succeed as a team is to _cooperate_ like one. Since (Y/N) is under a similar code of conduct, she is allowed to give as much personal information about herself to you all as she pleases. She respects your privacy, you can respect her's. Especially in these first few days, help her out if she asks for it and try not to put her down. We were all beginners at some point. Finally, the biggest rule with **no** exception; never **EVER** converse with the enemy." Her words were bold and you took it all very seriously. The other men kept quiet and some nodded as a response. 

__

Converse with the enemy...? You had slight curiosity, but you didn't want to ruin the moment. Maybe you can ask one of the other mercenaries later. The woman brushed off her dress after the moment passed. "If there aren't any questions, then I will be off." She scanned the room one last time. Pauling began to pivot on one foot to leave when Scout suddenly jumped in her way.

__

"Uhh, Miss Pauling-! We know that you guys-- err ladies-- had a long day of travelin' an' such. Would you want to join us for (Y/N)'s welcoming dinner?" A look of surprise rode on your face. A welcoming dinner? The only thing you had to eat that day was what you had at the airport. Now that you thought about it, you were starving.

__

Miss Pauling looked at her watch while making a humming noise. Her shoulders slouched as she gave a large exhale. "Well... I don't need to be ready to leave in Teufort until nine-thirty... Why not."

__

"Engineer and I will finish getting everything prepared!" A man with a thick German accent piped up. All the guys began to rejoice at his response, and the conversation among them all grew louder. You stood in the middle of the room watching everyone. They all seemed to be split up into sub-groups, multiple conversations being tossed around. You didn't know where to go, so you gravitated back towards Miss Pauling's group.

__

Before long it was dinner time. You sat between two men, you got to know they were referred to the names of Sniper and Heavy. You didn't make many conversations, in the beginning, you just enjoyed the moment of being there with the new people you were going to work with. About halfway through dinner Engineer stood up from his seat and tapped a fork against his glass to get the table's attention. The room hushed down to silence and he smiled as he spoke.

__

"Ladies and gentlefolk, y'all know why we're here. Tonight we welcome Miss (Y/N) (L/N) to not only what we consider our team, but our family. With our brawn on the battlefield, and her brain on the sidelines, may she help us lead RED on a more successful path than ever!" Everyone at the table began to clap as Engineer gestured you to stand up. You did so holding your glass and smiling.

__

"As you all know, upon entering our team you are honored with a name. Not just any name, a code name that becomes your alias, a... _symbol_ if you'd like. It keeps your identity safe on the field and within some records. So (Y/N), what would you like to be referred to as?" Everyone's attention panned from Engineer to you. Your mind shot a blank. It was such a sudden question. You swished the drink in your glass in thought.

__

"Oh, well... I'm not sure. I didn't give much thought to a nickname. .. Do any of you have suggestions?" 

__

One by one the room shot off with different answers from different people.

__

"Trainee!"

__

"Intern!"

__

"Servant!"

__

"Novice!"

__

"Bread!"

__

"Spy!"

__

"That one is taken, you idiot!"

__

"Who are you callin' an idiot ya moron?!"

__

The volume in the room grew greater as you watched in utter shock. For what was supposed to be a well-knit a team, they seemed to argue over the smallest things. A wave of guilt washed over you thinking it was your fault for starting it. Miss Pauling and a few others were yelling for others to calm down. Some of the guys were shouting for the sake of shouting. You even witnessed two of them wanting to start a fight in a drunken-manner.

__

It was at that point you have had enough. You picked up your fork from your plate and began to ring it as quickly as possible against your glass. The loud and frantic clinging pierced throughout the room. Slowly, but surely, those who were arguing began to pipe down and turn their attention back to you. You stood up with a solid posture facing the men. "If I may interrupt, while you all were arguing I have decided to come up with a name on my own."

__

They all looked at you blankly waiting for you to finish.

__

"Well? What is it?!" Scout yelled from the other side of the table.

__

"I was thinking about the name... _Backer."_ More silence came from the men. Some glanced at one another.

__

"Well... I quite like it alright." The lengthy man with an Australian accent was first to comment.

__

"Me too." The one in a gas mask mumbled soon after.

__

"Es ist sehr gut!" The German one spoke out. The room then grew into a cluster of noises of approval. Engineer cleared his voice to speak.

__

"You made a good choice," He nodded towards you, which you returned with a bright grin, "If y'all could raise your glasses; I would like to propose a toast." Everyone took a moment to raise their drinks. You kept your glass up. Engineer's rose the highest out of them all. 

__

"With the entrance of our newest member, may countless victories come our way, and we all get to get to know her as a part of our family as well. To Backer!"

__

"To Backer!" Everyone cheered as they all clinked their drinks together. A rush of joy filled you in almost and instant. It lasted throughout the rest of the meal. You got to know everyone's names that they went by. It took some time, but their uniqueness in style helped make their alias memorable. They then continued to ask you some questions about yourself. Before you knew it, the second part of the meal was done.

__

Miss Pauling looked down at her watch. "It's almost 8:45, I need to get going, guys." Most of the mercenaries and you all made groaning and mumbling noises to her comment, which was acknowledged with a smile from her, "Thanks for letting me stick around to see Backer's initiation. I have a really good feeling about you guys as a team." The men all cheered loudly, you could tell a good majority of them may have had _too_ much to drink with dinner, but you didn't mind the energy. "Backer, I wish you luck."

__

You gave her an encouraging smile. "I won't let you down."

__

She simply nodded her head cooly for she was already halfway out the door. "I'll keep in touch. See you guys around!"

__

A mixture of partings came from you and the others as she left the scene. Once she was gone you turned to find the rest of the mercs kept looking at you. An array of smiles were planted on their faces. The one in the balaclava which got to know as Spy split from the crowd and walked towards you. He held what looked like clothing in his hands.

__

"You simply cannot be apart of our team in dull gray clothing such as that; have these instead." He gently handed you the neatly folded clothing. It consisted of skinny black cargo pants and a somewhat baggy red zip-up pullover. A yellow tie-on armband with a patch of a large megaphone sat with eminence on the top of the clothing. You looked up at him with great gratitude, then gave the look to the rest of your team.

__

"Welcome to RED, Backer."

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **REVISION 9/10/2020:** You know the drill. :] Just fixing as many errors I could find!


	4. Meet The Backer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your first day on the job :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this chapter, I thought it would only be appropriate to make a title card! Here's the link to the [clip](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G4HrXLeKnek&feature=emb_logo)!
> 
> Also! Apologies, but there are some minor gore and blood in the chapter! My mistake for not putting a warning sooner. :(

Your first full day happened to be on the guys' day off, Ceasefire day. During that time, Scout and Spy volunteered to teach you how to properly use a firearm. The only issue was there was more bickering between the two rather than learning how to shoot. In the end, you talked some sense into them and managed to learn.

 _Today_ marked your first official working day. It was welcomed by Soldier yelling at you at the crack of dawn to 'GET UP, MAGGOT!' and 'There's a battle to fight and you're just waltzing around!'. Observing the rest of the mercenaries, this was nothing new to them. They walked around with the same tired expression you did.

Late on Sunday night, you received a call from Miss Pauling. It stated she wanted to have a video conference with you that morning. So when everyone was prepping in their own ways for work, you got on the line with her in your office near the intelligence room. It had a padlock to it with a code you were given. You, and whoever you decide to bring into the office, were allowed in only.

"Ah, good morning Backer! Were you able to find the checklist I left for you?" She asked.

"Yep. I have it right here." You confirmed, scanning through it.

"Good, now everything you will need to do will be on there. I called you for one specific reason. Do you see that large text at the bottom of the page?" You peered at the page's bottom. In gruesomely large text it stated ' ** _DO NOT GET CAUGHT!!!_** '

"The one that says 'do not get caught'?" You repeated back to her.

"Yes, exactly! Do you understand what that means?"

"Well, don't get caught by the enemy. What else would it mean?"

"Precisely. That's why it's _very important_ to tell the other mercs to not address you by name- title given or not- when on the field. RED and BLU have a very tight competition with one another. One will not be afraid to exploit the other no matter the cause. Even more so if RED begins to have reoccurring victories. _Stay hidden._ Don't let them see, hear, or even have a _clue_ of your existence. Got it?" Her orders were strict. A lot of what she said was pretty obvious, but you went along with it and bobbed your head.

"You got it, Miss Pauling." You responded. She grinned.

"Good, also do not be alarmed if you hear the Administrator's voice during battle. She loves to do that. If she isn't announcing to the mercenaries, she _might give you instructions individually." Miss Pauling went on to bid her best wishes and ended the call. You left your office to regroup with the team._

__

_"Mission begins in ten minutes..."_ An older woman's voice boomed through the facility. Her voice had a sense of dread that you couldn't put your finger on, though it did seem recognizable. That must be the Administrator. You held a red and white megaphone in one hand. Assembling into the biggest area of the facility, you brought the device to your lips.

__

"Attention RED mercenaries, please assemble in the training room for an important announcement." As some time passed the mercenaries made their way towards where you instructed. Soon, everyone stood before you curiously.

__

"Ready for your first day, Backer?" Engineer asked with a friendly smile. You nodded to him and gave the others a positive look.

__

"Well, we're here. Big first day." You said in a simplistic manner.

__

"Allllllright! Lassie's first day!" Demoman cheered out from the crowd. You put your hands behind your back and stood with the greatest posture as you could.

__

"Before you guys get out there to do... your thing... I was instructed to give you some announcements. The primary goal of today's mission is to obtain the intelligence located at the enemy team's base. All the while defending our own."

__

"We already know that! This isn't the first time we have done this mission!" Soldier responded. You continued to speak.

__

"I thought that much already. Some other things you guys will need from here on out are these," You walked over to a nearby tool bench and picked up nine small devices. They took one from your hands one-by-one. "Put these in your ear of preference. This is how I will be able to talk to you while you're out on the field. You can communicate something by tapping the small piece from your ear." They all adjust them into their ears as you spoke. Once settled, you went through a quick hearing test with each individual's piece.

__

"I will be watching over cameras scattered across the area. Do keep in mind it is only our boundaries. If I see anything of importance I will make sure to call it out. Also, as a request from Miss Pauling, she says be crafty when addressing me during battle. I'm not even supposed to exist to the other team... I will try my best to hide within the building. ...Okay, does anyone have questions?" You scanned the room, they watched you blankly. You let out a sigh, "Alright. Well, good luck today guys... I bet you're all going to do fantastic."

__

"And so will you, Fräulein," Medic said. The other mercs rejoiced in their own way. This made you crack a giant grin.

__

"What are we waiting for?! Let's give 'em hell, boys!!" Soldier rallied the men who all began to cheer even louder. You took this time as they hyped one another up to slip away to your office.

__

"Mission begins in 30 seconds." The Administrator moped. The chunky computer that spilled off of your desk contained a bunch of small panels with camera numbers labeled. You toyed with it to find out how you could focus on a primary camera. Adrenaline rushed through you as the Administrator started to count down.

__

"5..."

__

You switched over to the main entrance camera pointing out towards the bridge that connected the two teams.

__

"4... 3..."

__

You quickly adjusted your papers on your desk to make sure your list was in view.

__

"2... 1..."

__

Your heartbeat grew slightly quicker. From some distance, you could hear a loud wailing siren. The doors to the fort began to open.

__

"LEEEETS DO IIIIIIIT!!!" Demoman cried, leading the pack out the other men hollered.

__

In an instant, a large shell of an explosive came streaming right at the Scot. It hit him square in the chest as splatters of blood and limbs littered around the doors in milliseconds.

__

The color was drained from your face as you witnessed the sight. The worst part about it was nobody else on the team acknowledged it, they kept pushing forward. Your extremely shaky arms propelled you back from the computer. You covered your mouth on the verge of throwing up. What the fuck did you just witness? How could something so awful happen to one person? Tears began to weld in your eyes when something strange caught your attention.

__

No more than a few seconds later, right out of the same gate, ran Demoman. He was alive and well. You were shell-shocked. Confronting your computer again you pressed down on a key and began to speak.

__

"Wait, Demo, you're okay?" You exclaimed.

__

"Aye, of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?" He quickly responded as he continued to fight his way towards the bridge. A sudden blood-curdling scream came from Heavy as he collapsed down near the water edge. You examined carefully now. In just about the same window of time, there was Heavy carrying his minigun back into battle as if nothing ever happened. You were flabbergasted at this point. You pressed another key with one hand and tapped your earpiece with another.

__

"How are you guys not dead??"

__

"We gots a spawner in our supply room!" Scout replied.

__

"It's all thanks to my idea, of course!" Medic chimed in.

__

A spawn room? That made absolutely no sense. It was just amazing that it was enough to bring your teammates back to _life,_ even after some of the most horrific deaths one could ever experience.

__

It took some time to get used to, but as the battle raged on you got more and more tolerable with the idea of watching the mercenaries die. The idea was so fucked in the head, and it was often their demise was very violent and/or gory. You couldn't mourn every time someone died and came back, though. You had bigger fish to fry in terms of work.

__

On one of the cameras, you caught Engineer and Heavy with a dispenser by the corner of the fort's structure. It looked like Engineer was trying to craft some sort of turret as Heavy was patching himself up. Outside of their sight was a Soldier in a blue uniform. He was prancing towards them with a rocket launcher. The BLU member had a snarky look on his face as he was about to launch himself into the air and perform some sort of surprise attack on them. Immediately, you tapped your earpiece and shouted, "Heavy, Engie, BLU Soldier coming in hot!" The BLU Soldier was in mid-flight. As he was trying to reload a rocket, Heavy and Engineer took that time to shoot him down.

__

"Thanks a ton, Backer!" Engineer cheered through the earpiece giving a thumbs up in every direction in hopes you could see.

__

"Backer, we need more supplies for our closet!" Sniper called over the line. You looked around your office in a hurry for the kits, then proceeded to the back of your office which contained a small series of doorways. One led to the spawn room. In no time, the closet was tidied up and resupplied. A group of the mercs stood around patiently as you finished up and thanked you.

__

"Yo Backer, heads up! Needing more Bonk here!" Scout ordered.

__

"On it." You replied briefly and made your way to the shipment area of the building. Beginning to fill the fridge with the cans, white noise once _again_ came from your earpiece.

__

"Heavy needs more sandviches!" He growled on the other side.

__

"On the way, Heavy!" You exchanged your arms full of refreshments with the deli items and trotted back to spawn. It took you a bit to backtrack to the Heavy because there were an additional two pitstops you needed to make. Finally, made it to him in a breathing frenzy. "Sorry for the wait, here you are." You panted. He nodded to you gratefully.

__

"Thank you, little woman." He picked up his supplies and ran out.

__

With all the hustling around you have been doing, sweat formed on your brow. You took a minute to catch your breath just as the team's Spy respawned. He looked over at you with a small chuckle and a smirk.

__

"Working hard, I presume?" He asked, cooly raising a brow.

__

"Yeah... This is _very_ different from my old playing field." You responded winded as he nodded his head and continued out.

__

*******

__

This constant movement went on for quite some time. Just as the sun began to set on the horizon was when you heard that oh so sweet announcement.

__

"Success! We have secured the enemy intelligence." There was a small pause then the Administrator finally announced in a snake-like tone, "Victory." The mercs that were near the intel room by your office were celebrating.

__

A new bonesaw for Medic was tucked under your arm. Your once neatly styled hair was now a mess from the constant movement and tide shifts of battle. Tiresomely, you put one small fist into the air and let out a small "woo-hoo".

__

That night at dinner all of the mercs were in a cheerful mood. The chatter around the table was prideful.

__

"We freaking DOMINATED them!" Scout jumped from his seat.

__

"That was the first victory we had in a while!" Medic announced.

__

"We couldn't have done it without your assistance, Backer. Nice hustle out there for a first day." Engineer added on. The mercenaries included their own mumbled agreements.

__

Your face began to burn up as you spoke, "Thanks for being as patient with me, everyone. It must have been difficult with any delay of supplies, but you all looked pretty good out there as far as what I saw."

__

"That speed of her's you saw out there? All my training for yesterday. Yeah, you're welcome. She'll be getting stuff to you guys at _my_ speed in no time." Scout attempted to brag, but the group ignored him.

__

_"Hopefully it's only the speed she adopts."_ Demo whispered over to Soldier.

__

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?!" Scout burst. As a small grumble of laughs came from the men and yourself. Buzzing came from your earpiece.

__

"Hey Backer. Pauling here. Nice job on your victory today. Don't forget your post-clean-up duties." She made it swift and the noise suddenly stopped. You left the table and came back with a wheelbarrow and shovel. The guys looked confused.

__

You could hear Pyro mumble, 'what are you doing?' through their mask. You still had a smile on your face. "One of my jobs after battles is to clean up your old body parts. Since both teams are supposed to be at their forts, it runs no risk for me to be out." Their confusion turned to concern.

__

"Well sheila, you'd better get to work. 'Cuz you've got a loooong night ahead of you." Sniper commented as he opened a large sliding that faced the battlefield.

__

Hundreds upon hundreds of RED corpses and items were scattered. Your smile turned into more of a look of surprise, then dismay. The men looked out at the mess then back to you. You had nothing to say, but only a small phrase:

__

"Ah, shit."

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revisions: 01/21/2021


	5. Caught RED Handed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things begin to take a turn... :)

It didn't take long for you to grow custom to your routine. With plenty of conditioning, you managed to juggle the requests and demands shot at you. You even thought this job was better for you _physically._ As you were getting older, being on your toes and active may be healthier than just sitting at a desk all day.

You learned about all kinds of special missions the mercenaries took part in. Some of them did include capturing intelligence, but there are other kinds like capturing territories, fighting to defend one specific point on the map, or even trying to stop BLU from delivering a "payload" to your facility. You have been to multiple parts of the Badlands along with alpine regions as well. Though, you have yet to travel the world as Miss Pauling had mentioned.

The best part? Getting to know your team. You quickly became the norm amongst the men, they weren't afraid to joke around with you as if you were one of the guys, but they (for the most part if they weren't drinking) kept it in a respectful manner. As you did have a higher role in the corporate chain to them, they also tried their best to treat you like a manager. There were members on the team you were certainly closer to than others.

As speculated, for quite some time RED had a winning streak. Each victory was praised every evening filled with food and drinks galore. This kept up for a solid two weeks or so... Until there was a sudden change.

What may be in part with a cocky attitude, or a nasty hangover from the victories of past battles finally came the day of your first loss with the team. It came as a slight surprise to the men, but there was no concern. Everyone loses once and a while. Then came another, and another, and another, ... and _another._

At this point, the team who was once keeping a tally of wins was now marking each rotten loss. Day by day, defeat by defeat, each member of RED started to grow more irritable and frustrated not only to BLU but to each other. You were not excluded. They all pointed the finger at those who couldn't pick up the slack, which has pitted debates. It was always miserable when you were forced to take a side. On occasion, you were accused of _"You're not quick enough",_ _"You're not watching the cameras closely",_ or _"You're not listening to when I say I need assistance"._ You always tried to keep calm when accused. Though it did weigh on your heart when you _really_ believed you weren't helping your team. Most of the group came to your side, assuring you that it wasn't your fault. Or the teammate who accused you would apologize over time.

This marked the **seventeenth** loss in a row. Everyone was on edge, especially today. The weather at Gorge that day seemed off; it was more humid and stuffy than normal. It made the day's worth fighting feel sluggish and uncomfortable. You felt the difference in your normal funk; you were a lot slower to attend to everyone's needs. This lack of speed was evident based on some nasty looks the men gave as you when finally reaching them. After the defeat, you tried to avoid interacting with them until dinner.

****

The meal that night felt more tense than normal. You all sat around the table in silence, everyone barely touching their food. Every man knew what the problem was, but nobody wanted to bring it up. In fact, _anything_ up. Time passed before Engie cleared his throat to break the dreadful silence.

****

"Well, the best we can say is that we gave it our all out there." He stated simply, releasing a sigh.

****

_"Are you freaking kidding me?!_ We SUCKED out there!" Scout was first to burst. "We MIGHT 'ov had a fighting chance if it weren't for _Soldier_ shooting that stupid rocket in front of the point!"

****

"Well! If it weren't for this maggot _Pyro_ not picking up the pace, and scaring them off with that ANTI-AMERICAN fire gun we wouldn't have that problem, would we?!" Soldier exclaimed. He slammed on the table, pointing an accusing finger to the pyromaniac. A muffled 'What?!' came from Pyro's mask. They began to speak frantically, only you could not pick up on what they were saying. At some point in Pyro's argument, you heard 'Backer' mentioned. Soon, all their heads turned to you for a response.

****

"Well, I..." You attempted to start but genuinely did not know where to go. You couldn't just blame someone else for your actions, especially if you did not know what you're being accused of.

****

"That's some shabby work there, sheila," Sniper mumbled.

****

"Aye, Lass you got to get yer sheit together! We lost time ter 'each the point because yerrr twig legs couldn' move fast enouf-" Demo slurred out. His scrumpy gliding across the table sloppily.

****

"Yeah, what the hell Backer?! Not cool!" Scout added on. You looked around the table helplessly. All made no effort to come to your aid, you could tell that they may have been slightly bothered by your efficiency that day. Your guilt bled into irritation. Your exhaustion, your stress, and your lack of sleep brewed into a pot of boiling anger. When the guys listed off your flaws of this past week that, _THAT_ was the straw that broke the camel's back. You've heard enough.

****

"Look, I'm trying my best, okay?! I can't be at more than one place at a time. Do you ever think about that maybe-- JUST _maybe_ I have to help more than one class at a time? There's one of me and _nine_ of you. I'm tired of losing, too. We have had this conversation a million times before, arguing with one another ISN'T going to make us win. So how about everyone gets off their _god damn_ high horse and think about others for once!" You shot up from the table. Nobody responded, some stared while others kept their heads down. The silence in the room was foul. You marched to where you kept your cleaning supplies and started post-battle-cleanup.

****

****

*******

****

****

An hour into duty, once again, the mercenaries had countless RED bodies sprawled all over the map. _A bloodier day than normal._ It was pitch black outside, all you had was a small strap-on flashlight to guide you through the darkness. You were still pressed about what went down at dinner. The comments made by your team played back in your head, causing more pent-up anger.

****

You cursed tiny rants to yourself. About your team, about your losing streak, about your inefficient skills to make them happy, everything under the sun that could be linked with some sort of negativity. One of Scout's baseballs sat on the ground in a pool of blood. You picked it up and studied it. His snide comments taunted your conscience. A sour frown tugging at your lips, you dropped your shovel. Winding up for "the pitch of the century", you chucked the baseball as far as you could. Any rage remaining left with it.

****

You have sworn your heart stopped. In the direction you threw the ball, a loud and painfully obvious _CRASH_ rang. You remembered the ginormous water tanks in the area. The thunk carried in the air what felt like miles. Frozen in the dark like ice, fear overcame you. With small steady breaths, you collected your items and moved to a different area.

****

Twenty minutes or so later you picked up the final RED body and loaded it into the wheelbarrow. It should be the last load you had to take to the incinerator. Though you took a moment to sit in the grass against the wheelbarrow. Turning off your light, you looked to the sky above. Stars twinkled in the dark to form whimsical patterns. Streaks of light from the galaxy left you in wonder.

****

You took this time to think to yourself, maybe you were a little hard on the guys. They _were_ being sore, but it may as well of been rubbed off onto you. You exhaled deeply. ... Yeah, you were going to apologize tomorrow morning.

****

A bizarre noise caught your ear.

****

It sounded like a gust of wind, but louder. There were some trees in the area, but there was no breeze that entire evening. The noise seemed much closer than the trees. You tried ignoring it, maybe it was just your imagination. It's been a long day... your mind was playing tricks on you.

**...The tipping point is when you heard a sudden crunch of leaves on the ground. Sticks were breaking between one's footsteps.**

****

_Something didn't feel right._

****

You scavenged the darkness, not daring to speak nor breathe. Turning on your light, you rummaged in the wheelbarrow for a fallen butterfly knife. Your other hand grabbed for the pistol in your holster. Laying your hand that held the pistol out over the one with the knife, it made a cross in front of your chest to provide a small barrier.

****

With slow footsteps, you carefully observed the area the light allowed. Your heart pounded at a million miles per hour. After a minute or so of panning, you built up the bravery to call out into the night.

****

"Hello? Is someone there...?" You asked tentatively, failing to blanket your fear. This horrified you. You prayed it was just an animal. Focusing the light in one direction, no noise clung to the air besides your pounding heart. The wind was closer. 

****

_Right behind you._

****

You did a one-eighty, eyes wide and body stiff. A few yards away was a man. He looked similar to your team's Spy, the only difference being his suit and balaclava were different shades of blue. He looked surprised as the light shined on him.

****

Your whole body shook. Raising the pistol resulted in you dropping it from your severe jittering. Both pairs of eyes darted to the pistol, then back to one another.

****

A strange smile grew on the Spy's face. You couldn't describe it, but how it was projected was haunting. All you could do was watch in shock. Right before your eyes, he began to deteriorate with the same wind and faded into the night. Even after his disappearance, you did not dare to move. It felt like a century before your blood chilled and your senses came back.

****

In a panicked state, you clumsily collect your things and tossed them into the wheelbarrow. Trying not to make it tip, you hightailed it back to your base. A million fears whispered-- confusion in the mix. All these assumptions were trumped by one unavoidable fact:

****

_You were caught red-handed by the enemy._

****

****

****

**Sometime Earlier That Evening...**

****

****

****

"I don't think those RED boneheads saw what was comin' their way!" A Scout in blue yawned, stretching in a metal chair. It tipped back on two legs as he slammed his feet on top of a flimsy wooden table. A self-satisfied grin and laughter came from his lips. Along with him in the coldly-lit room was an Engineer and Spy dressed in similar blue style.

****

The Engineer had some sort of gadget propped up on the table. Both he and the trinket jumped in response to Scout's propping. "It's quite a pitiful sight, really. 'Does seem like RED has begun to accept the fact they ain't as good as us. ... Or they've hit a trough just as we had prior." He commented. Displeasure riddled his face observing the young man's posture. "And get 'yer nasty feet off the table, boy! This here is a new machine I've been working on. I don't want it ruined from the likes of you!"

****

Scout and Engineer began to argue. Spy sat at the final side of the table reading a book and smoking a small cigar. He tried not to acknowledge the noise the two were making, but after a while, it became too unbearable. He leaned his head back and rolled his eyes. Closing the book and placing it on the table he said, "While you two imbeciles continue to bicker, I'm stepping outside for some air." He got up from his seat and walked to the exit of the building.

****

Scout bounced out from the argument and shook his head, acknowledging Spy's remark. "Wait-- Spy! You know how the Administrator feels about us snoopin' around the grounds after fightin' hours." The man in the blue mask stopped in his tracks, his neck turned towards the boy.

****

"I think you forget who you're talking to."

****

He left it at that and continued walking, leaving behind a silent Scout and Engineer.

****

Only small embers from the end of his cigar gave off light. The Spy walked around the open area in admiration. It was a wonderful night for such a scorching day. He admired the stars above and the lack of light pollution covering them.

****

He halted when he heard a peculiar noise in the distance. It sounded like metal scratching across the concrete; a string of curses with it. Spy activated his invis watch as a safety measure and approached the area where the sound came from. Standing next to the water tanks, he was surprised by the scene close-by.

****

A woman wore a red pullover with a dinky strap-on light around her head. She grumbled to herself as the shovel she held clinked against the concrete to scoop up the remains of a RED mercenary. All of this interested Spy; he has never seen this person in his entire life. He was only under the impression the mercenaries from RED and his team were in this area. ... _Unless..._

****

His thoughts were cut short by the slam of an object onto the water tank, only inches away from his head. He jumped back and tried not to make a _peep_ from the sudden aggressiveness. The item bounced to the ground before him.

... A baseball?

He turned his attention towards the girl. A petrified look overcame her from the sudden noise. She frantically collected her things and disappeared from his sight. Spy let her gain some distance before tracing her path.

****

Spy pondered about the presence of the girl as he watched her clean up. He concluded that she was more than likely working with the RED team, based on her outfit. ... But there was so much more he wanted to know!

****

She finally finished her work and rested on the side of the wheelbarrow. Spy's watch buzzed, seeing the battery of his invis watch had drained. He let out a quiet groan as he decloaked quite loudly. He moved to another part in the area, but in the process crunched over some leaves and stepped on a twig. This caught the girl's attention. She began to scan the area he was near using the light. Luckily, he slipped away before it could reach him.

Spy waited for his watch impatiently. What an inconvenience! If he didn't get enough juice quick, she was bound to spot him. More than likely, her to death finding out someone had been spying on her.

_... Spying._

He got a mischievous idea.

****

As she moved closer to his previous spot, he disguised with the little charge he gained. Spy looped the around so he faced her back. He stood a few yards away with his hands behind his back as she called out into the night.

****

Spy uncloaked himself, his hands still behind his back. He held a neutral expression as the girl thrust around and shined the dim light on him. He raised his brows, noticing she was wielding a knife and a gun. It surprised him, not noticing when she grabbed them. Though, he was amused. She was shaking from head to toe, trying not to look frightened. The gun fell from her grip, not knowing how to respond, she watched him helplessly.

****

He was trying not to laugh. Of course, he wasn't going to do anything to her. As wicked as it was, it felt satisfying to monger fear into someone. Though, he started to feel guilty. Yeah, he wanted to get a small spook in as a chuckle for later, but this poor woman looked like she was about to faint. Even with his roguishness, Spy _still_ considered himself a gentleman. He's played with her mind enough for one evening. 

To put a final impression on her, he sparked a smile and cloaked right in front of her. He stood still for a moment to take in her final reaction. Shock. Just as he expected. Spy walked back to his base, leaving her in the dark.

****

Hearing her grabbing her things and rushing back made him chuckle. At least he knows he didn't turn her into stone or anything. Now that his "fun" was over, he was left with his curiosity. In some way, he _needed_ to get to know who this girl is. 

More importantly, why was she _here_ in the first place?

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revisions: 01/27-28/2021 ;)


	6. His Overture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are negotiated :)

The horrors from that night consumed your mind from then on. You finished your traditional cleaning duty, of course, with all fearful thoughts on your mind. As soon as you entered back into the base there sat Pyro and Scout at the table. Pyro's head was down, and Scout seemed to have a guilty look on his face. The two of them apologized about what they said at dinner towards you. At that point, you almost had completely forgotten about it since there were new things to worry about.

"Uh... It's fine. I'm sorry for blowing up at you guys. And everyone for that matter." You were able to jumble out. You just wanted to be left alone in your room to think things over. Scout picked up on the sense something seemed off.

"Backer, you alright? You look like you've just seen a ghost." It was damn close near to one, you thought. He pointed a finger at your face. "Like, you're all pale and shit." You let out a nervous laugh in response.

"It's probably nothing. Just not feeling well. I'm gonna go lie down for the night. But, seriously though, you guys are fine. I think we've all gotten tired of losing. We'll give it time, things will probably get better." The two nodded to you and bid you goodnight.

You could not fall asleep. Your brain has been traveling at hyperspeed and screaming at you since the encounter. What's going to happen next? What if he tells his team? What if the Administrator finds out? What will happen to you? Cycles of stress would fade then come back in one ferocious heap which made you toss and turn in bed even more. The only reason why you were able to get a little shut-eye that night was due to passing out from exhaustion from worrying so much.

***

A week has passed since the encounter. Since that night you have been extra cautious both when running supplies during battle, but also with post-mission duties as well. One strange thing is since that night you had not encountered that team's Spy or any of the BLU members for that matter. Neither has Miss Pauling or the Administrator have a conversation with you even remotely close to the topic. They must not have known. This brought you a little relief, but that underlying fear that something is wrong was still there.

During these last few days, you have noticed you began to have a somewhat closer friendship with Scout. It seemed like at first after he apologized he still wanted to make it up to you, even though you were very much over what had happened as mentioned before. Starting off it was more you being patient as Scout followed you around and talked your ear off if you weren't working, but after a while, you opened up to him a bit more. You ended up having a little bit in common with him. Even if he was a little arrogant or talked out of term every once and a while, he really wasn't a bad person. Besides, he was someone you could consider your first legitimate friend since you began working with RED.

By the middle of the following week, the team had to be up bright and early (thanks to Soldier) for a movement to a new location to complete some missions. The place you were taken to was named "Mountain Lab" according to Miss Pauling, so all of you were shoved into a small shipment truck disguised as a beer brand to travel from point A to point B. Once you arrived, you felt more free being outdoors. Even just for those few minutes before you were shoved right back into hiding within the facilities that covered RED's side of the arena.

During the training session before the first mission, Scout accepted your offer to reteach you how to be a better shot with your handgun. You never know when you're going to need it... especially now. You still weren't the best aim, but you saw improvement since the last time your Spy and Scout taught you.

The mission was dragged out and bloody as normal, but your team was able to finally pull off a win to break the streak of losses. That night, of course, was celebrated as one big booze fest for all the mercenaries. Their spirits were rekindled once again, which gave you a warmer feeling you haven't felt in quite some time. As usual, your fun had to be cut short to do your final duty for the evening. It left a pit in your stomach every single time now.

You felt a small shred of hope. It was a new area, right? Maybe it might be more difficult for someone to catch you since you have no routine here yet. Or maybe you or they will get lost and will be unable to find where you were. Just as another safety measure, you always made sure you had your handgun on you, and you started carrying around one of your team's Spy's knives you picked up while cleaning. He's got a million of them. It wouldn't kill him for you to have one he dropped.

You began to develop an underlying fear that always left you curious; what would happen if YOU were to die here? You knew the mercenaries were able to respawn, they've been through some of the most horrific ways to go one could ever witness yet they would respawn unscathed. Would you be able to do the same thing? That was a risk you weren't ready to test yet. It was better to play on the safe side for now.

You got your gear and went out to work. It was another beautiful evening. The sounds of the forest filled the night sky as you navigated your way around the area with the small headlight and wheelbarrow. By now, you have gotten completely used to picking up any sort of body part or remain of a person. As much as it sounds insane or ridiculous, once you've done it countless times it becomes just like any other job. Obtaining the skill of the fast clean-up has made you feel more productive overall while doing other tasks and obligations as well.

You were in the middle of picking up the remains of a Demoman when something caught your ear. It sounded like footsteps on the loose gravel trails from a distance away. The noise was distinctive from the normal sounds you've heard all evening. It took no delay for you to drop your cleaning tools and begin wielding the gun and knife. You have been preparing yourself in the case of the worst happening, but you couldn't help but get that nervous feeling again.

You didn't call out, and you didn't move your head. It was as if you barely breathed. Once again you hoped and prayed it was an animal just passing by. Refusing to let your guard down, you stood like that for a solid three or four minutes. A little bit afterward, there were only the noises of the evening from before. So slowly, you eased up. You began to turn to pick up your shovel again until you heard a voice cut clearly through the dark.

"You certainly don't look like Miss Pauling."

With a quiet surprised gasp, you turned straight where the voice came from and aimed your handgun. Nobody stood in front of you. Your arms felt like jelly, but you refused to move. Every nerve in your body sparked like crazy, just waiting for something to magically appear in front of you.

Suddenly, the knife you now had in your back pocket was slipped right out with ease. You heard that strange wind noise coming from right behind you. You could physically feel someone's presence mere inches from your back; they were that close.

"I wonder where you got this from, mon amie?" That voice was so familiar. Too uncomfortably familiar.

You quickly turned around with your eyes closed and pressed the barrel of the handgun right into his chest. You refused to look at him, and you hesitated to pull the trigger. No action was taken from the two of you.

"What do you want?" You asked still with your eyes closed.

"You're not going to look at me when you speak? And you're going to point a gun at me too? Zat's an interesting greeting to someone you don't know." He replied calmly. It seemed like he wasn't alarmed in any case about what was happening. You had a freaking gun! You could shoot his brains out any second if you wanted to.

"I said what do you want." You repeated, you opened your eyes but still had your head turned away so you couldn't see his masked face. In all honesty, you were afraid to look at him.

A chuckle escaped his lips. It made your skin crawl, you just wanted to get out of there. "Let's talk." He responded. "I didn't come out here to hurt you. Rather, I'm just... curious." The tension you put on the barrel of the gun to his torso lightened up, more in shock than anything. He took the moment to slip off to the side and place a small cigar into his mouth, taking a moment to himself to take in a slow breath in of the product. His eyes floated towards you again, a smirk resting on his face. "Just who are you anyway?"

You didn't answer, still trying to avoid making eye contact with any part of his body. Taking the shovel off from its place from the ground you continued to clean up in silence. The Spy watched you for a few moments, then he slowly approached you and effortlessly took the tool from your grip. All still keeping calm and gentle composure.

"I said, who are you?" He asked again in a thicker tone. Your stomach did backflips every time he spoke. He wasn't going to leave you alone, or worse he could possibly hurt you until you said what he wanted to hear. You sighed and looked down at the ground in front of you.

"Backer." You mumbled.

"Can you repeat that, please?" He moved closer to you to hear you better.

"They call me Backer." Your tone grew more irked than before. There was no way you were telling him your real name. You hated everything about this scenario. You wanted him to go away, and you wanted to disappear from it as well.

"Oh, come on now. I know that's not your real name, ma chérie." He replied in a playful manner which you immediately disregarded. You walked over to the wheelbarrow and began to push it along. The Spy walked beside you as you looked straight ahead as if he wasn't there. "Did I scare you? My apologies, I was just trying to have a little fun." He added on still wearing that disgustingly charming smile.

You came to a grinding halt and set the wheelbarrow down. With one simple pivot on the heel, you turned to him, a desperate look on your face and a glint in your eyes. "Can you just go away, please? The fact that you even know that I'm here has me in a lot of trouble."

A confused look rang on his face. "What do you mean?" He inquired.

The stress of it all was about to burst, so you let it all flood out. Right to the enemy. "You know that I'm here and working for RED, right? You probably already told your team about me who probably told the Administrator. It's just a matter of time before she tells me she figured out my mistake and she gets rid of me in some way." The more and more you ranted on confusion and fright was written all over your face. 

The confused look left his expression, and it returned back to a calm stature. "I did not tell anyone about our interaction." He stated.

"What?" Disbelief left your voice.

"Seeing you? I kept that to myself. And I am guessing you did not tell anyone, non?"

"Of course not. I don't want to find out what will happen to me if someone else found out." Chills ran down your spine as you thought about the Administrator's voice and it's coldness that came with it. Yeah, you definitely did not want to know.

"Hmm," The Spy tapped his chin with one gloved hand in thought for a moment. During his brainstorming session, a small smile grew on his thin lips. "Perhaps we can have an overture of sorts."

"An overture? About what?" You raised a brow.

"Yes, we can settle a deal. If I am being honest, it is just as high risk for me to be out here at this hour as well. But I do enjoy getting away from those imbeciles on my team every once and awhile." He paused a moment to take a drag off his cigar. "I will keep your identity safe from my team, and the Administrator or anyone else who may ask. In return, you allow me to walk around the map az freely az I want without risk of you informing anybody."

You could not believe this, but you complied. You nodded your head to his proposal. "That works fine. But, it can only be you that can come and go. If I catch any other BLU members wandering around just know our agreement is done." Small laughter was muffled from his closed mouth.

"I think that's fair enough. Then we are in agreement. Let's shake on it." He lifted his right hand up towards you. Your whole upper half moved back a bit as his hand extended. You were hesitant, this was a Spy for goodness sake! You couldn't think of the thousands of outcomes that could come with this acceptance, but the thought was aggravating.

"I don't bite, you know." He said in a light yet cheerful manner, amused by your reaction. He wanted you to trust him about keeping this promise. Or so that's how it looked on the outside. There wasn't much you could do now. You have already agreed to his compromise. Slowly, you extended your right hand and shook his gently, still unsure how to take in the situation. 

"Good, now we have that settled. I will be off." He turned on one heel and began to walk off. He lifted his right hand in the air, cigar between his index and middle finger. "This will not be the last time you see me." He called out to you. His voice shrunk as he disappeared into the dark. You stood there with a complete dumbfounded look on your face looking into what was nothingness.

"What the hell just happened?" You mumbled to yourself. All around you, the noise of the forest at night slowly began to come back. His demeanor was quite puzzling to you, but it left you with mixed emotions. One hoping he never bothers you again so you can do your job in peace. The other is that he comes back so that you can figure out what his deal is.

Even after the deal was made, it still left you with an uneasy stomach. This was completely outrageous, having to negotiate with the enemy just so you can finish work and get some sleep that night. There was some trust that he would follow through with it just being him. Your Spy wasn't the most social either, so perhaps he is no different? 

You shook your head to yourself. Without making another noise that entire shift, you finished completing clean-up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the original published version of this chapter, I included Spy with an accent within his dialogue (ex: "zis" instead of "this"). It got annoying to me as a writer, and I assumed it gets irritating to read as well. From here on I will just let you all use your imagination to hear the accent, I hope that isn't too big of a let down for you all!


	7. Passing The Barricade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -+-  
> "Vous voulez la paix: créez l'amour."
> 
> (You want peace; create love.)
> 
> -Victor Hugo  
> -+-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All French words/phrases/etc. will be translated at the end of the chapter!
> 
> (EDIT: I came back in to revise this chapter. I noticed a lot of grammatical errors and parts of sentences that seemed awkward and/or difficult to read. MENTAL NOTE: Do not revise and post at 2:30 in the morning!)

The butt of a cigar was extinguished by the rotating of a gloved hand against an ashtray. There sat a BLU Spy in his poorly lit smoking room, his mind lost in thought as his eyes fell in line with the fireplace as its comforting heat consumed the area. He had a hand on his chin supporting his head while the popping of the fire was merely background noise.

“Backer...” He mumbled to himself. Once the little chat between you and the Spy ended, he immediately retreated to the room. If he wanted time to be in deep thought, this was the time to do it and the place to be. The thought of you brought great curiosity to him. Your hesitation to trust, your instinct to react at the unusual, the darting of your eyes as you observe your surroundings made this feeling even stronger. There were so many unanswered questions, and he wanted to know them all.

His mind kept reanalyzing the agreement the two of you made. For now, he was at a truce with you. Though, it was nothing more. “There has to be a way to…” He whispered to himself before trailing off into silence. His eyes lit up a little. He quickly got up from his seat and walked over to a desk that was across the room. He picked up his Spytron 3000 that sat on top of the table and flicked it open. On the screen portrayed the mercenaries on the opposing team all in their own individual box, then at the very bottom corner of the screen was a blank box. A grin grew on his face as he looked down at it.

“This may just be it.” He closed the device and placed it back down on the table. He returned to his chair and lit another cigar. The Spy laughed to himself a little, “Oh, mon amie… it will work quite well. A small... swap-in... shouldn’t hurt.” He paused again and began to think once more. “But, how do I not raise any suspicion?” His eyes scanned the room in search of an answer. His gaze stops and locks on a book with a somewhat excessively decorative cover that sat on a nearby shelf. Along the spine of the book it read _Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet._

The Spy did not say a single word. He kept his focus on the book as he took a slow drag on the cigar. A devious smile followed along with the exhale of the gray smoke into the room. It seems that he has made up his mind.

*******

You sat on the floor of your room only partially dressed and ready for the day. You were going through some items that you brought along with you to the new location once you made the map switch. One of the items you included was a box you intended to open, but never got around to it due to you not having the time or forgetting all about it.

Tearing away the tape that sealed the treasures inside, you began to scavenge what items awaited. A lot of what the box contained was only trinkets that you packed from your apartment. There were desk items from your old job, some magazines, a fake little plant, and a whole lot of other unimportant artifacts. Once you believed you reached the bottom of the box, you sighed in disappointment for not finding anything of importance. It was then as you moved the box to the side where you felt there was still stuff on the bottom of the box. There was an old black cardigan at that at the bottom, but the item you noticed felt was more sturdy and heavy. Moving the cloth to the side your face glowed up in disbelief.

At the bottom of the box sat a book that was barely keeping itself intact, in prominent gold labeling read the title _Les Misérables_ in large cursive font. Tenderly, you took the book out from the box and into your loving embrace. Just holding the piece of literature brought back so many wonderful memories. You could picture yourself as a young girl sitting outside on a beautiful spring day on the porch, wasting away the afternoon totally absorbed in the book as the sun shined down on you. You let out a dreamy sigh, only good memories to you were associated with such a tragic tale.

A loud pounding was heard from the door that jumped you out of your trance. Your head shot towards the door in utter surprise.

“Come in.” You called out.

The door swung open to present a disgruntled Scout. He had a sour look on his face as he stomped into the room. His fists were clenched tight, so tight that they were shaking. It didn’t take much to indicate something was wrong.

“Hey, Scout. What’s the matter?” You looked up towards him. His line of view slowly turned down towards you. He didn’t say anything for some time, which surprised you quite a bit. Scout never stops talking. Whatever happened truly was bothering him.

He let out a loud frustrated groan and collapsed onto the floor next to you. His arms were tightly crossed against his chest. “He freaking pisses me off!” He brought one fist down and slammed it against the wooden floor. You shifted away slightly out of instinct as you looked at him with a perplexed expression.

“What happened?” You asked again. “Did you get into another fight with Spy?”

“That snobbish no good suit-wearing snake!” He exclaimed. Whatever happened, it had Scout so upset that it caused him to shake as he spoke. Taking both of his hands he slid them down his face to try and relieve some of the stress. “He-,” Scout began before pausing because he bumped the back of his capped head against your bed frame. He brought one hand to massage the area to soothe the pain.

“I’m just sick an’ tired of how he treats me! He goes around acting like he’s my dad or something, telling me what I can and can’t do. Then he’s gots the nerves to remind me how much of a disappointment I am acting like he’s _sooooo_ much better than me.” His hands waved around as he talked to emphasize the point he was trying to make. You listened carefully with concern. This has not been the first time Scout has come to you to rant about these types of things. Usually when he is upset with something or someone, mainly your team’s Spy, he vents to you. Part of it is that the two of you are friends, but the other part might be because Scout wants to hear a voice of reason now and then.

“I’m so sorry, Scout…” You sighed. “It isn’t fair that he treats you like that. You’re your own person, and you have the liberty to do whatever you want.”

“Backer, there’s some advice I wanna give ya.” He brought a pointed finger up towards your face. “Spies are just dime-a-dozen backstabbing scumbags. They can’t be trusted with _anything_.” His voice was as sharp as knives and they sent a chill down your spine. Your mind immediately went back to when the BLU Spy made his overture. Is what Scout is saying possibly true?

You sat in silence before you put a hand on his shoulder and shook it a bit in a friendly manner. “But I should ask, did you in any way try to provoke him beforehand?” You raised a brow at the young man.

“Pssh! No way!” He stopped again to think after he spoke. “Well- not necessarily… I just told him to take his chain-smoking baguette ass back to London or sometin’-” You rolled your eyes and playfully slapped where your hand originally was on his shoulder.

“Of course you did.” You remarked flatly. Maybe what he was just saying was just common Scout talk. This causes Scout to let out a small chuckle realizing the ridiculousness of the whole situation and your reaction.

“Yeah, I can kinda now see why he would’ve gotten mad.” His eyes wandered down to your hands that held the ancient book. He read the title labeled on the cover. “Huh, less miss marbles. An’ it’s got the fancy lookin’ "e" on it and everything.” He commented pointing to the accent above the letter. You let out a pitiful chuckle.

“It’s pronounced _Les Misérables_ . It’s my favorite book.” You hugged it even tighter now with a big grin on your face.

“Whateva, I don’t read books ‘cause I’m not a nerd.” He stretched his arms out in front of him.

“Do you want to know what it’s about?” You asked eagerly, excited to hopefully have a conversation on the story.

“Mm, maybe late-uh. Y’know, when I care.”

“What are you cupcakes doing just sitting around??” Soldier now stood at the door frame leaning half of his body into the room. Scout and you looked at him in surprise by his sudden appearance.

“We have a mission in THIRTY MINUTES! You should be up and getting your energy juices FLOWING by training and preparing!” The two of you shot up from where you sat on your floor. You put on your uniform’s pull-over to be prepared for the day’s tasks.

“Get moving, MAGGOTS!!” Soldier pointed down the hall as the two of you left the room swiftly.

*******

The following nights have brought you many mixed emotions. First and foremost was dread. In all honesty, post-clean-up was your least favorite job. It would be anybody’s least favorite if they were in your position. You would have asked your teammates to help out to make the task go faster (since it’s THEIR bodies after all), but now that wasn’t an option anymore because of the BLU Spy roaming around. Oh, speaking of him...

The next emotions were irritation and fear. The Spy seemed to not have a specific schedule when he would wander around the map. Sometimes he came multiple days in a row. Then there were days that there were breaks where you would not see him at all. Though the days he was present he would not. Leave. You. ALONE. You would be busy hauling a torso of a dismembered Heavy to the incinerator as the Spy stood off to the side talking about only god-knows-what. It always seemed to be something about work. You never were really listening.

You would tell him to fuck off, especially considering he didn’t help you either. Though that’s when the sense of fear would kick in. If you did so, there was always that underlying threat that he could come back at any time and seek vengeance. Again, that was a game you did not want to play at the moment. So instead, you just never gave full responses to anything he said. There were only the occasional head nods and ‘mhmm’s’. He was never mean or snide to you as you have seen with your Spy to your teammates, but he just gave off a vibe that did not feel normal. It wasn’t rude if you weren’t supposed to be talking to him in the first place, right? To avoid any deeper trouble you just tried to not talk to him and give him information.

On the other hand, Spy found joy in his attempts. So far they were all blunders, his curiosity still lingered and worked as motivation. He thought of the whole situation as a game of sorts. While it is a timely process, the prize at the end is quite rewarding. Besides, he thought you were at least somewhat attractive appearance-wise anyways. As a result, he was patient with you.

The final emotion that was brought to you was joy. After your pain-staking task was done and the Spy finally decided to call it quits for the night; you would sit up against a tree looking off into the forest and reread the book you loved so deeply. It didn’t matter that you only had a small petty headlight to read with, it was like you knew every line of text by heart. Each turn of a page absorbed you deeper and deeper into Victor Hugo’s fictitious yet so realistic world and far away from the real one. This world was filled full of despair, but so much opportunity all at the same time. It was quite an emotional journey.

It was on that one night after you finished cleaning as quickly as possible, and once you believed Spy had left for the night you retreated to the usual tree to continue the story. Being so immersed in the book, you had failed to notice that Spy had returned to where you were to retrieve something he must have left behind. He noticed your cleaning supplies were still out and turned his head more so to see you against the tree with the book. He was at a close enough distance to be able to read the title, but far enough to not disturb you. He did not approach you, but rather, an idea sparked in his head. With a smirk, he quietly slipped back to the base and left you to read in peace.

The next night seemed to play out just how it was stated. Dread to begin with, and now you were just about to get through the irritation/fear process. The BLU Spy observed you doing your job and getting the final remains disposed of.

“It seems as if you finish faster and faster each day.” He commented.

“Uh-huh.” You replied in a half-assed manner.

“With that, I am assuming you are heading in for the night, non?”

“Yep.” You confirmed while tossing some tools into the wheelbarrow. Your hand rested on a burlap sack that contained the book inside for a brief moment before swiping back over to the wheelbarrow's wooden handles. You pushed the gear towards your reading area but made it seem like you were heading back to base.

“Well in that case I will be off then.”

“‘kay.”

He turned his back to you and grinned as he tilted his head up a little. “You know… _‘The future has several names. For the weak, it is impossible; for the fainthearted, it is unknown…’_ ”

“ _‘... but for the valiant; it is ideal... ‘_ “ You stood there in disbelief for a second. You turned around so then you faced his back. “Why did you say that?”

He caught your attention. Spy turned his neck some without turning his entire body to face you. “It was something I saw in a book some time ago. It has stuck with me ever since. I just don’t seem to remember where it’s from…”

“It’s from the book _Les Misérables_. Have you read it?” You tilted your head in curiosity.

“But, of course. It is one of my favorite stories.”

A rush of excitement filled you. “Really?! I mean-- Oh, really?” You tried to compose yourself to not seem too overjoyed. “That’s one of my favorites, too.” You couldn’t help but have a small smile form on your face.

He turned back around slowly to see your smiling face. It surprised him, for this was the first time he has seen you with a happy expression. You were suited a lot better with a smile. “No wonder you could finish the quote. Have you read it more than once?” He asked you cooly.

“I can’t keep count of all the times I’ve read it. And if I did, I would be embarrassed to say the amount.”

This made the Spy laugh a little. “I could not blame you. If it is something you genuinely do care about, then to hell about what other people think.”

“I guess you’ve got a point there. There are so many memorable quotes from Victor Hugo’s writing! _‘A garden to walk in and immensity to dream in--what more could he ask? A few flowers at his feet and above him the stars’_.“ You quoted with pride.

Spy nodded his head approvingly. “Very nice. A little fun fact about myself is that I have read the original French version of the book when I was younger. I did read it again in English though. There are a few lines I do remember in the French edition that stuck out to me.”  
“That’s actually pretty interesting.” You admitted.

“ _‘Si je parle, je suis condamné. Si je grarde le silence, je suis damné!'_ " 

“Which quote is that?” You asked in anticipation.

“The wise words of realization spoken by Jean Valjean himself, mon amie. _‘If I speak, I am condemned. If I stay silent, I am damned!’_ ”

The two of you continued then to have a deep conversation on the story. Admiring the storyline, the characters and their relationships with one another, and your favorite and least favorite parts that happened in the book. You left that night on a high note. You felt glad to talk to someone about one of your most prized interests.

For those days following, you tried to be a bit kinder towards the Spy. You two continued to talk about Les Mis, but you also discussed different kinds of stories and movies as well. The conversation usually followed along in recommending a personal favorite to the other to read or watch. Those mixed emotions all became to blur into one; joy. You did not seem to mind if the Spy wanted to make a small conversation that did not involve anything work-related as you finished for the day.

The sun was setting, and you just had gotten started to clean. A few minutes passed when you heard the familiar sound of Spy’s decloak as he began to approach you.

“Ah, mademoiselle Backer. It is good to see you again. If you could stop what you are doing for a moment, I have something for ‘ou.” He held a rectangular item wrapped in cloth in his hands.

You put down your shovel and wiped your hands clean with a clean cloth you had. Your head turned towards him and raised a brow. “What is it?” A surprised, but somewhat pleased smile rested on your lips.

“It is something I hope you will enjoy.” He gently handed the cloth-covered item to you. It was heavier than you expected. “Go ahead, open it.” He urged.

You flipped the item around and unwrapped it from its casing. Your eyes grew three sizes bigger and your mouth gaped open slightly. It was an edition of _Les Mis_ , but it seemed different. _Immensely different._

“I did some searching around my base and I came across this version of the book. See, if you open it up,” He guided you through the book towards the middle of the story. He pointed out how there were little marks and symbols written around the text. “There are annotations and footnotes left by Hugo himself.” He looked down towards you waiting for a reaction.

You were in total shock. Pages upon pages filled to the brim with the citations, notes, and thoughts of the author mesmerized you. “Left by Hugo himself…” You echoed back. “It’s… It’s amazing. I… I can’t accept this! It’s too important to just give away.” In a flurry you tried to hand the book back to Spy. He gently pushed the book back towards you.

“Trust me, I believe you will make better use of that book now than anyone from that base has since it was brought there.” You opened back up to another page and skimmed through it. Your face glowed brighter than ever before.

“I don’t know what to say... Thank you.”

“It is never a problem, ma chérie.” He replied tapping your shoulder softly.

You never felt more grateful in your entire life. Flipping through the pages, you began to notice something somewhat odd. “The only issue is a lot of these notes look like they’re written in French.”

The Spy peered over your shoulder and down at the book as you pointed at some of the writings. “It seems you are right,” He nodded. “My apologies, I should have checked it more carefully.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s perfectly alright,” You looked up at him. “Maybe you can stick around after I’m done cleaning up and help translate some of these? If you don’t mind that is. It’s your choice.”

His face brightened up a little bit more as well. “I would love to.”

You felt a wave of energy escape your body. Your expression clearly stated how ecstatic you were. You broke out into a bright smile at the masked man.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French translations:
> 
> mon amie - my friend (feminine)
> 
> Les Misérables - The Miserable 
> 
> Si je parle, je suis condamné. Si je grarde le silence, je suis damné! - If I speak, I am condemned. If I stay silent, I am damned!
> 
> ma chérie- my dear (feminine)


	8. Rule Breaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New location, new places to explore :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of words/phrases will be at the end of the chapter!
> 
> I also left a question for you all!

The time spent at Mountain Lab was some of the best you have had so far in your life with RED. The weather always seemed to be nice up there, the feeling of nature was refreshing; it almost gave you a sense that you were at home. It made for perfect conditions to accommodate with the mercenaries and their fighting and your job as well.

The battles between RED and BLU began to balance out once again. It left a stink of an attitude with the men when they lost, but it was satisfactory for you for they were never like that for long once they claimed another victory. It also lead you to do more bonding activities with the team as well. For example, on the night leading into a ceasefire day, the team had a campfire meal near the perimeter of the base (just so the mercenaries would not get into trouble). Nothing but drunken bliss, roasted weenies, and s' mores. Then all of you attempted to play a game of tipsy 5v5 baseball with rocks and a 2x4 wooden plank. A long story short; it was for the better that nobody won.

The time came and went. It was not long before your team was notified by Miss Pauling that you will be moving bases once again. You were sad to leave Mountain Lab-- friendships grew greater and things were looking up. But it could not be helped. You always were curious about where you were going to go. Part of you was expecting another alpine or badlands area, but to your surprise, it was far from both.

"Austria," Miss Pauling buzzed through the video speaker. "You guys are heading to the castle village of Hazyfort."

The thought excited you. You have never been to Austria before. It was an exciting first experience. Within a few days, you were flown over and stationed there. The architecture of the buildings amazed you. But you were curious as to why you were fighting in a place where there should be people living. It seems as if the town the teams were set up in was completely abandoned by civilians.

"There are people who live in the village. It is just the place we are designated, they intentionally have closed off so there is a battlefield to fight on and no civilians are harmed." The BLU Spy explained to you one night. You had just put all of your tools away and now was sitting with him at a picnic table going through the notes in the book he gave you. The question was recurring to you all day, so it was the one thing about your jobs you allowed to discuss on.

"I think the other thing that shocks me is how on earth does TF Industries have land all the way over here? Let alone, _anywhere_ outside of the United States?" You inquired.

"You would be surprised, Choupette." He always seemed to refer to you by different nicknames at this point when the two of you talked. There were some that he used often, one common one was "mon amie". You knew what it meant, and you don't mind that he called you that. It was just some of the more uncommon ones he used you always wanted to ask what they meant, but did not want to sound foolish.

There was a dim flicker that came from your headlight, in an instant, it was consumed by the darkness of the night. The only light present was the ones from lamposts a distance away. And the fading embers of Spy's cigar.

"Oh, great..." You mumbled. You took the light off from your forehead and examined it. "It looks like the old thing finally decided to give out. Not like it had much to give in the first place."

The BLU Spy chuckled. "I suppose so. You'll have to get a new one for another night now so we can continue."

"Yeah..." You slowly closed the book and looked at the time on a small wristwatch you were given some time back by your team. "It's getting late anyway. Should we call it a night?" You stood up from where you were seated and tucked the book between your hand and your side. It was then when you felt Spy gently grab onto your wrist with a gloved hand to make you pause. A puzzled look came over your expression.

"Let's meet again tomorrow night," He started. "There's somewhere just outside the boundaries we can go and get a drink."

"Spy, we'll get in trouble." Some surprise escaped from your voice. "It's one thing for you to come out here, but it's a whole other if we just leave!" Spy didn't look fazed at all. He looked up at you blankly. "It would be a mess of trouble if someone from our teams caught us. Or even worse, if the Administrator found out."

"I can guarantee to make sure we won't get caught during that time." He took out the cigar that hung in his mouth.

"How so?"

"I have my ways." He smirked as he tapped the ash that sat at the butt. "Besides, it should give us a change of pace in something to do. Friends commonly go and get drinks together, yes?"

"I... I suppose so." You tucked some hair behind your ear. Your eyes kept flickering behind you.

"Then you should not worry about it. I will handle everything." He said in an assuring manner. You nodded your head slowly with uncertainty.

"... Alright, if you have that much confidence..." You looked back towards your base for some time before turning back to him. "I guess it should be fun."

"Excellent!" He said cheerfully. You gave him a timid smile.

"Great. I'll see you then." You were about to conclude. Your attention was already towards RED's base once more.

"Oh, and Backer..." The grasp that was once on your wrist slid into the pad of your hand. The pressure which he held it increased, but not by a lot to make it uncomfortable. It sent a jolt up your spine. "The place we are going to is of.. higher-grade. If you can, please bring some nicer formal clothing to dress into after cleaning."

Astonishment overrode your expression, "Okay..." You managed to squeak out. You could feel yourself begin to heat up. Spy slowly let go of your hand and stood up from where he sat.

"Perfect. Then it is settled. Until tomorrow night, Backer." With a wave of his hand, he was off in the direction of his base. You returned the gesture as his back was facing you.

"See ya." You jumbled out as you had already begun to walk back towards base. With the book between your armpit and side, you brought a hand up to gently grab onto the part of your hand that Spy held.

It gave you a strange feeling. One that you could not describe. He was so... delicate with his touch. You tried to shake the thought from your head. Nevermind it, there was probably no meaning to it. The two of you were post-battle friends. There's nothing inherently wrong with that from anyone's eyes besides your teams and the Administrator's more than likely. It's not like it was a date or anything, right? You didn't conceive it as one... Maybe it was best not to think too much of it. There was just anticipation for tomorrow night. Only Heaven knows what may happen.

*******

Dusk was upon the horizon the next day. You paced back and forth in your room in an inquisitive manner. Just exactly how _high-grade_ was this place you were going to? If you knew anything about either Spies, they were both ones for class. It would not surprise you at all if he just wore his casual suit because it was already high-grade enough (or so you heard from the rants your team's Spy had over his outfit getting ruined).

You did not want to enter the place looking like you did not care that you were just digging shallow graves and throwing bodies into a pit of fire, but you also did not want to walk in overdressed looking like the next Marylin Monroe compared to everybody else who wore only richer modish attire.

Should you do your hair? Your makeup? Should you leave it as is? Should you wait until you were done cleaning? What if the other guys caught you all dolled up wondering why you looked like that just to go clean corpses? Your brain was on overload. Plopping onto your bed you sat in thought for a minute. Then it hit you.

Digging through a wardrobe you found a medium-sized purse in your belongings. You placed some hair products of your choice, some makeup supplies, cleaning wipes, and a pocket mirror into the bag. Next, you put on your choice of gray semi-formal night-out clothing that you deemed would be "fancy enough". After scouting around your room you eventually were able to find an oversized rain poncho. You draped it over yourself to prevent your clothes from getting ruined by any mess from your work and put on your choice of shoes to compliment your outfit. With haste, you left the base. Luckily, nobody acknowledged you on the way out.

Observing your surroundings you felt like you had just hit a stroke of good fortune. The mess in the battlefield seemed to be minimal. You saw the BLU Spy when you reached about the halfway point of the map.

To your surprise, he changed up his outfit for once! He wore a suit vest complimented nicely with a fedora. All of which had blue representation, of course. You tried to suppress your laughter. It was strange to see the Spy look so different.

"Hey, won't you look at that. I didn't know Spies were allowed to own more than one suit." You teased. He chuckled at your response.

"And, I did not know you considered rain ponchos as formal wear." He remarked back.

You rolled your eyes. "I'll try to get done as quickly and _cleanly_ as possible. There aren't as many to pick up today anyways. I'll just have to be careful not to ruin my shoes."

"In that case, I shall help you. It will make the process go faster. So you don't 'ave to worry so much about your footwear." And he did as he promised. The process went two times faster with the two of you cleaning up together. But you did notice he was pickier about the bodies he helped dispose of, probably so he would not stain his clothing either. He probably wished _he_ had a rain poncho now, huh?

Once finished and the tools (and poncho) were put back, you two were crafty on your execution of leaving the area. There was a small wedge that you had to squeeze through and had to keep close to a stone wall. Spy was not kidding, not even a quarter-mile from where the bases were sat a large building with the common old-village timber lining. Soft yellow light poured out onto the cobblestone road through the small glass windows.

The two of you entered. The interior was smaller than it was perceived on the outside, but it was far more elegant on the interior. Mahogany wood, dark quartz, and deep yellow lighting decorated the place. Quiet jazz hummed in the background. A large variety of liquor selections stacked high against the side wall where an old bartender in nice clothing attended. There were quite a couple of people who sat at the booths and tables spread across the floor, all not too overly dressed to your relief.

Spy guided you to the bartop, where he pulled out a stool for you to sit on and one for himself. The bartender hovered over to the two of you immediately. A joyful look came across his face upon seeing Spy.

"Ah, freut mich, Sie wiederzusehen, mein blauer Freund!" He greeted him. With a charming smile, Spy greeted him back in the same tongue. You didn't know exactly what they were saying, but it sounded like German. You _were_ in Austria.

You had a humble smile sit on your lips as the two made their exchange. Quickly, Spy broke the conversation and turned to you. "Feel free to order whatever you would like, mon amie. I will have it covered."

You felt a pang of guilt. You hated getting into disagreements like this, "No, Spy... I have my wallet on me. I can pay for my own drinks." He shook his head.

"Non, this was my idea. So at the very least, I can pay for it. Just tell me whatever you want to have and I will make sure you get it."

You did not want to drag the argument out any longer than it should of, so you complied with disapproval. You told him the choice of drink you wanted, and in turn, he told the bartender. With a sunny nod, the barman left your area leaving the two of you alone. Your eyes wandered the scene around you once more.

"This place sure is something." You whispered. Spy held his head up with a hand and watched your expression of amazement with a mirthful gaze.

"It really is. I happened to stumble upon it once before when I snuck out for a walk. It has been my favorite place to go every time we come here." He lit a cigar for himself. He offered one to you, but you declined politely.

The bartender returned with your drinks. Thanking him with a small "Danke" you brought the drink to your lips. with only a few sips it was probably one of the best drinks you've ever had. You drank slowly to savor it, the cheer was read clearly in your eyes.

"This is amazing," Your narration was quiet. "This entire place is wonderful."

"Not as wonderful as you are, chérie." Spy cooed. A tint of red appeared on your cheeks. "Did I ever mention that you look lovely this evening?"

You could feel yourself getting a little more flustered by the second, "Thank you... you look really nice yourself." You managed to peep out while bringing a hand to your cheek to feel its warmth. Your smile brightened, "But... I think the poncho added just the right flare that the outfit needed." You both laughed quietly.

The peaceful atmosphere of the environment was interrupted when there was a loud shatter of a glass hitting the floor. Immediately, your eyes averted to where the noise came from. Two burly men in chic trench coats sat across from each other. One looked shocked at the sudden attention he was given from him accidentally bumping over the glass. A waitress rushed over to him. It sounded like she was reassuring him that it was alright and began to clean up the mess. The two men looked up at each other and nodded. They slowly stood up at the exact same time and exited the facility.

You stared at the door in which the two men left. Your eyes were transfixed on it. It seemed like all noise around you was a blur. It was when your daze was interrupted by Spy lightly bringing a hand to your knee. "Backer, is everything alright?" He asked you in a concerned yet calm voice.

It took you another moment to check back into reality. "Uh- ...yeah. Everything's fine. I just got distracted for a moment." You could not explain why you were so fixated, it just happened every now and then. The bartender returned to the two of you.

"Es tut mir Leid, Sie unterbrechen zu müssen, Blau, doch sprecht deine Freundin Deutsch?" He inquired to Spy with a tilt of his head. He smiled and shook his head.

"Nein, sie spricht Englisch." A look of surprise came over the bartender's face as he turned to you.

"I apologize! I should have asked you sooner what language you spoke." His English was a bit broken, but it was enough for you to still understand.

"No, it's perfectly alright! He was doing a fantastic job translating." Reassuring the barkeep, you pointed to Spy. He gave you a sweet look in return.

Continuing from there, Spy, the bartender, and you conversed with each other. You got to know many details of the old tapster, his hobbies outside of work, his family, and even some information about the village. You and Spy did not disclose much information about yourselves, you just listened in interest to what he had to say.

Some time passed, and you felt like freshening yourself up a little. "I'm sorry to cut in, but where is the restroom?" You asked sheepishly to the old man.

"Down that hall and to your left, dear." He pointed to the very back of the building, just from the crook side of the back wall you could see it expanded more so behind a wall on the right side. You thanked him and quickly got up from your seat with your purse.

Upon entering the hall. At the very end of it was a staircase leading upwards. The building did seem like it had multiple floors from the looks of the outside. On the left was the women's washroom and to the right was the men's. The restroom was smaller than you expected, for it only could have one person in it at a time. It did not matter much to you, though. You would just be in and out anyways.

After doing what you needed to, you washed your hands. You looked into the mirror at your appearance and smiled. You _did_ look really nice tonight. Thinking back at Spy's compliment brought color to your cheeks again.

Over the sound of the running water, you began to hear muffled voices. Each sentence after the other grew louder in volume and greater in intensity. Quickly turning the faucet off, you listened more closely. It seemed to be coming from above you. It sounded like a man, or maybe multiple men. Their tones grew more aggressive, but then they died down.

You exited the washroom, and your eyes peered towards the staircase that led up. A few bumps of footsteps could be heard from the ceiling of the washroom behind you. Then there was silence for a brief moment. Though the mumbles and some yells continued soon after.

A gnawing thought traveled through your brain. You contemplated, should you go up? Those voices seemed frustrated for whatever reason. Part of you screamed yes! Maybe you could found out if there was something wrong. The other more sensible side of you chanted no. It may be a private matter, besides that the second floor might be living quarters. So it may just be a family.

The sensible part of you won that argument. You slowly began to turn back in the direction towards the dining area. It was then a clearly audible **DINK** was heard from inside the women's bathroom. Your head peaked back inside to examine where the noise may have come from. There was no physical evidence of any change in the room. Although the sound of a pipe that lined against the wall began to hiss quietly. The only thing you knew for sure was that it was the sound of something in specific hitting metal.

A **bullet** hitting metal.

Your attention was back on the stairs again. The pounding of your heartbeat grew louder, and you must have been holding your breath because you took in a large gasp of air. And with dainty, quiet footsteps, you slowly began to move towards the steps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have noticed the last few chapters have been significantly longer compared to its beginning ones (reaching around 3,000+ words or six pages approximately). I know once it gets over a certain amount of words it can become difficult to keep focus and read. Should I cut chapters down more? There will still be the same amount of story, just spread out into even more mini-chapters! Feel free to give me your feedback! :)
> 
> Translations:
> 
> **Choupette** \- sweetie (feminine) [French]
> 
> **Ah, freut mich, Sie wiederzusehen, mein blauer Freund!** \- Ah, glad to see you again, my blue friend! [German] 
> 
> **Mon amie** \- my friend (feminine) [French]
> 
> **Non** \- No [French]
> 
> **Danke** \- Thank you [German]
> 
> **Chérie** \- dear (feminine) [French]
> 
> **Es tut mir Leid, Sie unterbrechen zu müssen, Blau, doch spricht deine Freundin Deutsch?** -  
> I am sorry to interrupt you, Blue (referring to Spy), but does your girlfriend speak German? [German]
> 
> **Nein, sie spricht Englisch** \- No, she speaks English [German]
> 
> (Finally, five years of German class has some purpose!!! This is the most German I have used since quarantine started.)


	9. Midnight Mishap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You investigate what the ruckus is all about :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations are at the end of the chapter!

You have never felt yourself move so slowly in your entire life. With such a sluggish movement, you were able to conceal the sound of your footsteps. The only issue was the age of the building. Your foot hovered over the dark wooden step. Pressing your weight on it made it creak slightly. It was not loud enough to gain any attention, so you pressed forward.

It took a solid two to three minutes before you could make it up the flight of stairs. Upon reaching the top you were met with a somewhat narrow yet long hallway. Three doors sat on both sides of the hall, and one door sat face-to-face with you at the end of the passage. The door at the very end had a sign hung next to the door frame. Diligently, you glided towards it.

As you grew closer the sign read what seemed to be the facility’s name then the words _“Reinhold Pisani - Geschäftsführer”_ beneath it. You could hear the voices once again from behind the door. A hazy gray smoke seeped between the crack of the door and into the area around you. The door seemed somewhat aged, and near the handle was a keyhole. You looked down towards it for a moment, then with cautious actions; you leveled your eye to it to see what was inside.

There were seven men in the room. Some wore hefty coats accompanied by a homburg hat, others wore all black suits with a fedora. Large cigars protrude from a few of the men’s mouths as well. Their twisted looks did not seem pleased. Six of the men surrounded a large wooden desk as they peered down at an old gentleman who sat in a lofty chair behind the table. The man in the chair leaned onto the desk with his elbows. He had a great look of distress on his face. A large cigar came from his mouth, too.

“I said this to you gentlemen a million times before and I will say it again; I don’t know where it went!” The old man spoke in a harsh tone to the group. To your surprise, he was speaking English. A young man in a suit who stood at the corner of the desk slammed his hands down on it aggressively. His back faced you so you could not catch a glimpse of his face.

“Cut the bullshit, Pisani! You know GODDAMN well where my money is!” The young one spoke out. He spoke English as well, his voice was somewhat nasally and had a mixture between a New Jersey and Italian accent. He stuck his index finger right into the man’s face. The one behind the desk must be the manager or someone of similar status, you thought.

Pisani did not flinch from where he sat. He looked right at the man’s finger in pure disgust. “You just need to give me a little more time. I cannot give back what you loaned out to me yet. That money is _gone,_ Cavallo. I do not have control over where it is now. Just give me-”

The young one put his hand up to stop the man from speaking. He snapped his fingers and a man wearing an oversized coat lifted a briefcase from his side and handed it to the suited one. He held it up as he opened it to reveal its contents to the manager. Pisani's mouth dropped open and you could his skin turn ghostly pale.

You could not see what it was from your angle. The young man held no expression but anger as he lifted a pair of two severed hands that clutched onto a few pieces of paper. “That money is gone? THAT MONEY IS **_GONE?!_** THEN WHAT THE HELL ARE THESE?!” He pried the papers from the hands and threw them at Pisani with boiling rage.

“BANK STATEMENTS, TRANSFER PAYMENTS, PASSPORT FUNDS, RECEIPTS; ALL of which issues about the movements of MY money that traces back to YOU just for YOU to sit there to tell MY ass that it’s GONE?!” He fell silent for a moment. Dropping the briefcase without a care on the desk he clutched onto his Gordo cigar and took a moment to calm himself down. His once tense shoulders shrunk back down to fit his small structure.

“We talked to your guys, Pisani. Every. Single. One. The ones that refused to talks; we refuses ‘em to have the abilities to hide what we wanted. This is nothin’ but your fault. None-a this had to happen if yous waz justs more competent enough.” He drew a large pistol from a holster that latched to his side and aimed it right at the old man’s head. A look of alarm overcame Pisani’s face, he brought his hands together as if he was praying and looked up at the man.

“No, please! Just give me a little bit more time!! I will get your money back-- I swear! You can have the lounge! The Inn! My car! I’m just begging you, it doesn’t need to be like this!” He cried out. Tears began to weld in his eyes hoping, no-- _praying_ for mercy.

The young one who held the pistol kept his arm up and barrel pointed at him. He began to slowly walk behind the desk to where he sat. You could now see the entirety of his face; bruised up and scarred. He held the gun tightly to the man’s head, so tight his fist quivered.

“You’re gonna listen here and you’re gonna listen closely,” His teeth were clenched as he spoke. “I's gots guys who will be here any minute. We are tearing this fuckin’ place apart and anyone who’s in it. Then you’re gonna come wit' us, and we’s gonna visit the Big Guy. Alright? … _ALRIGHT?!”_

An almost inaudible gasp left your lips. Your eye intensely kept peeking through the hole, but you began to feel your hand shake that was supported on the door frame. Pisani didn’t answer with words, he just quietly wept to himself with jumbled words while slowly nodding his head up and down.

Your purse began to sag down off of your shoulder. It hit the ground with a somewhat loud slumping noise. From the door next to you came a loud sound of furious barks from a dog. You could hear it put its front legs up on the door to try and push the door to enter the hall. The sound caught you so off guard you fell onto your bottom from where you crouched.

The dog’s barking caught the attention of the men in the room as well. They all turned the door almost simultaneously. “Someone’s up here!” Another man from the room spoke. You heard footsteps approaching the door.

In a frenzy, you scrambled onto your feet and collected your purse. Without a care of making noise, you dashed down the hall and fled to the stairs. The door swung open and other than only getting a slight view from your back you were gone. The young man now stood at the door frame looking down the hall to where you escaped. His eyes wandered down to the ground in front of him as a wicked smile spread across his face.

He bent down and picked up a torn gray part from your clothing. He turned back into the room and with a loud voice he announced, “Tie that poor bastard up! And make sure those men get here NOW!!” Two of the men went behind Pisani and began to tie his arms together with a thick rope. The young man turned back to the hall and twirled the fabric in his fingers.

“It looks likes we’s gots ourselves a snoop.”

The BLU Spy sat at the bar with his hands folded looking down at the counter. It did not take him long to realize you have been gone for a concerning amount of time. Is she aware of his intentions? Did she run off? Maybe he should go check on her? Whatever thought came in it never really carried any anxiousness within him, just inquiry.

Those thoughts were pushed to the side as you came speed walking towards him-- almost breaking into a sprint. A look of horror was written all over your face. You immediately grabbed onto his forearm of his rolled-up dress shirt which caused him to stand from where he sat. He got back into character showing a face of similar worry.

“Backer? Are you okay? You were gone for quite a long-”

“I need to talk to you.” Your voice remained quiet, but it was deadly serious.

You pulled him off to the corner of the bar where there was not as much noise. Your eyes kept darting to the hallway where you just came from. “What’s the matter, mon amie?” He whispered.

“Spy, we need to get these people out of here now. These people in suits they-- they had the manager at gunpoint asking for money and-- it was some money laundering scheme. They’re gonna be here soon, Spy, these people are in danger they had guns and--” You could barely keep your words straight as you spoke in hushed tones. He held the sides of your arms at this point.

“Backer, you need to slow down. You’re not making any sense.” He whispered in response. “What happened after you left?” You were about to open your mouth to speak once more when a horrified shriek came from the opposite side of the floor.

Turning your attention to the noise a woman stood pointing at the entrance. A group of men began to rush into the building. Armed with Tommy guns, they began to shoot them up into the air which erupted a storm of horrified screams and cries from everyone else in the building.

“GET ON THE GROUND!!!” A few of them began to shout over the gunfire. People were quick to obey, they began to crumble to their knees in a panicked and hysteric state. The old bartender stood behind the counter with his hands raised high in the air looking just as petrified as everyone else.

Two men in trenchcoats aimed their weapons at you and Spy. “GET YOUR ASS ON THE GROUND **NOW!!** ” One screamed at the two of you. Both Spy and yourself held your hands in the air and slowly moved to your knees. You looked up at the men, they looked so familiar. Then you remembered:

**They were the ones that left earlier that night.**

*******

A group of you now sat in the center of the lounge on your knees or your bottoms with your hands tied behind your backs. A group of three men circled you all while scanning the area. The young man in the suit you saw earlier now stood in the front of the facility.

“Boss, we tapped the phone wires. Someone in the area called the cops.” Another man in a suit and shades approached to inform him. The young man took the fat cigar out of his mouth and waved his hand towards the door.

“Then yous better do a good job not letting ‘em get in here!” He yelled. “Get outta my sight! Are you almost done looting those shelves? C’mon people... I don’t got all night!”

His orders were nagging and almost painful to listen to. You tensed up as he yelled. Spy was next to you. His face showed nothing but apathy. He almost looked… bored. You tapped his side with your elbow to get his attention. “What do we do?” You whispered to him.

“HEY! I DON’T WANNA HEAR A PEEP OUT OF _ANY_ OF YA! YA HEAR ME?” He pointed his pistol in your direction. You jolted back up and sat still for a bit so you wouldn’t get scolded at again. Spy now tapped your side.

Without saying a word, he directed his eyes down to his hands so your view would follow. A sharp blade came from his gloves and was slowly cutting away at the rope. He made a very quiet shushing sound so you wouldn’t say a word. His eyes kept scanning the room, but you could not catch on to what he was trying to do. A loud crash was heard from the bar shelves. While everyone turned to face the noise, and over the Boss’s yelling, Spy took the chance to finish cutting the rope and cloak himself to disappear from the scene.

You sat there anxiously. You hoped that Spy had a good plan to get everyone out of here. The young boss finally noticed something was different. He glared right at you. “Hey, you!” He scolded in your direction.

“Me?” You questioned.

“Yeah, you! Where the hell did that blue guy go?”

“What blue guy?” You inquired once more.

“Don’t play stupid with me! The masked guy you were JUST whisperin’ to?”

You turned your head and pretended to act surprised by his disappearance. “Oh, my-- yeah! Where did he go? He was here and now he’s gone.”

Loud barking from the dogs upstairs echoed down onto the main floor. The young man rolled his eyes in an extremely irritated manner. He turned to one of the men and jabbed a finger into his chest. He ordered him to watch you all closely as he went upstairs to investigate.

Just as the young leader left the scene. A muffled cry then forced silence was heard behind you. It sounded like someone tried to cry in pain and was cut off. You turned your head to the left and watched the next guy who kept guard. His torso thrust forward as he made an “O” with his mouth to scream, but that sound was muffled as well. The man violently collapsed to the floor.

The guy who was ordered to keep watch noticed this and was just as confused as most of the other hostages were. He held his gun up from where the guard used to stand. Though he met the exact same fate-- falling to the floor onto his side. The people who remained tied up began to exchange looks of confusion. You waited with patience. It was then you felt a light hand touch yours which made you perk up in surprise.

“It’s just me, Chochotte.” You heard Spy whisper into your ear. You could feel a cutting motion between your hands and the rope. Faster than when Spy got himself out, he cut you loose as well. You felt him drop something into your palms. “Use this.”

Bringing them in front of you it was revealed to be a golden watch. It had almost a full teal circle in the middle of it. You quickly strapped it onto your wrist and tapped the button on the side. In an instant, you looked down to see your arms were semi-transparent. “Just go through the entrance when that guard moves.” You could feel Spy’s hand hover over your shoulder to point towards the opening of the lounge.

The two of you waited patiently. After a few minutes, the guard repositioned himself and walked off to the side of the room to talk to the guy behind the bar since the boss wasn’t there. Both of you got up from where you were and crept your way out of the facility. Just to be safe, you rounded to the back of the area and walked down a few buildings away to be out of earshot. You could hear the sound of wailing police sirens in the distance. The men from the building began to shout and ready their weapons.

Both of you uncloaked. “We should get back to our bases.” Spy suggested, but you still looked at him with a face of disturbance.

“What about everyone else in the building?” Your hand gestured back to the lounge. “Aren’t we going to help them?”

“It sounds like the police are on their way. They can handle it from here.” That was true. But something just didn’t sit right with you.

“Spy, if we have the capability to help them I think we should. What if people get hurt? Or killed?” You pushed once more. His face held longing as he gazed down at you.

“It is the same question that should apply to yourself, Backer. What will happen if _you_ get killed?” You looked down at the ground in front of you. The Spy took out another one of his cigars and lit it. “I only say this for your own safety. It would be the smarter choice for us to leave while we still can.”

You kept silent for a bit in thought. You knew exactly what you wanted to say, but you just couldn’t choke it out. Spy took hold of your hand gently. “Let’s get going, mon amie.” He tried to usher you along with him, but you slipped your hand out from his grasp.

“If you want to go back to base, then leave if you want. It’s your decision,” You looked back to the facility. “But I’m not going to allow a bunch of innocent people to get hurt. I know I’m not a mercenary like you or the other guys on my team…” You began to unclip the watch from your wrist. 

"... But I _will_ figure out a way to help.” You placed the watch back into his hand. Your mind was conflicted, why was it only now you felt the inclination to risk it all? Were you curious about death? Wanting to be a hero? Were you a little bit tipsy? You didn't know, and to be quite frank; you didn't care either. You turned back in the direction of the building, shifting slightly to face the man in the blue mask. “I’ll see you around.” With that, you began to rush back towards the direction of the chaos. 

“Backer, wait!” He exclaimed attempting to extend his hand to catch you, but it was too late. He stood in disbelief. What were you _thinking?_ You had just escaped from the danger, and now you were about to nosedive back into it just for a few hostages? Spy couldn’t understand the reasoning behind it. Though, he did know what he had to do now.

“Oh, _merde._ ” He grumbled to himself, sighing.

He whipped out his Spytron. On one of his shoulders sat an extremely short strand of hair. He placed it onto the device and an image of one of the guards popped up. He selected it and a paper mask with the man’s face appeared on his head. He looked back towards your direction. Putting his Spytron away and taking out his balisong; Spy began to follow your trail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> **Geschäftsführer** \- General Manager [German]
> 
>  **Gordo cigar** \- A large/fat type of cigar [Spanish]
> 
>  **Mon amie** \- My friend (feminine) [French]
> 
>  **Chochotte** \- A term of endearment for your friend (feminine) [French]
> 
>  **Oh, _merde._** \- Oh, _shit._ [French]
> 
>  **Balisong** \- Butterfly knife [Tagalog/Filipino]


	10. Half-Time Heroine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BACKER TO THE RESCUE!! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All translations are at the end of the chapter!
> 
> Not gonna lie.... this was a difficult chapter to write. While revising I found a lot of parts I was on the fence to include, exclude, and change. This is the final product that made me the most satisfied for the time being
> 
> Hope you enjoy ;)

From the furthest corner of the lounge, you could already see the strobing red and blue lights from the squad cars approaching. Some were already parked on the opposite side of the road to cause a buffering zone between them and gunmen-infested establishment. None dared to enter the no man's land created by the two forces for it was too risky.

You thought it was more clever to keep to the back of the building. Maybe there was a doorway from behind you could enter? Your side was kept close to the wood frame of the structure as you slid across the back wall. Just as you reached the opposite side, you found an indent within the wall which revealed to be a back emergency door. Placing your hand carefully on the door, you entered into the danger zone.

It led right into the kitchen. A man in a coat occupied the room, armed and ready to attack. His back was turned to face into the opposite side of the hall that revealed a flight of stairs separate from the ones you went up earlier. No rooms accompanied on the sides leading up to them. You ducked down quickly behind the giant metal island that stood between the two of you and crawled to the edge of the side closest to the door to get a better glimpse of the scene. Besides the two doorways of the room, there was no other area to escape to.

You sat on all fours brainstorming to yourself upon what to do next. When you picked your head up you noticed the handle to a small frying pan poked out just above your head. Sliding it off the countertop quietly, you observed the stainless-steel item, then the man at the door. Bringing your arm up over your shoulder, you threw the piece of metal across the room into a kitchenware hanger that held up items of a similar nature just so it was outside of sight of the door. The crash caught the man's attention, he turned around and on instinct fired a few shots from where the sound came from. A thick smother of silence filled the air before your heard footsteps wearily approach the pan. Getting up onto your feet with as much grace as possible, you rushed your way out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. This left the man behind in the room to investigate every square centimeter to find what would have caused the noise.

The hall at the top of the steps was very dim due to no light brightening the small space. It boxed off on all sides except for one that opened up to a skywalk that only slightly hovered over the main dining area. The dark wooden guardrail and balusters of the walkway had a large girth to them. Little light poked out from the metal hanging chandelier onto the floor. Keeping low, you crawled your way onto the platform and peeked through the small spaces of the rails to peer down at the main floor.

The hostages still sat there. Their heads were turned away so you could not read their expressions, but the young boss stood in front of all of them once again. One man tied up stuck out closer to the young one compared to the others. Based on his blazer he wore and his hairline, you could assume who he may be.

The general manager, Reinhold Pisani.

"See 'dis, Pisani? None 'ov dis would've happened if you would of used that incy-wincy tiny brain 'ov yours!" The Boss taunted. His face got close and personal to the old man who backed his neck away as far as possible.

"Cavallo... You didn't have to do this. _Any_ of this. No matter what you do... they're going to arrest _both_ of us at the end of the day!" He blurted out.

The young man seemingly named Cavallo socked the man square in the mouth. The old man dropped his head down and let out a groan in pain. You could see blood drip from his face on to the floor. Cavallo shook his knuckle out as he got on one knee to level with the man.

"I don't like those shit lips of yours. You're one lucky sonuvah bitch, Pisani. Normally guys like you I kill on the spot. But you... You've got value. Dah Big Guy's reeeeally gonna like you." A twisted chuckle came from his thin pale lips.

"...What are you going to do with everyone else here...?" Pisani's voice carried hatred and fear all at the same time. You could visualize the expression that his face made from where you sat.

Cavallo put a hand to his chin and stroked it. A loud 'hmm' buzzed from his closed mouth. "That's easy. We's just gonna deal wit' 'em like I said. We can sell de men off for organs or forced labor... And maybe we can takes the women somewhere and give them a _nice new ho--"_ Cavallo cut himself short. Pisani had sprayed blood right onto his face that came from his mouth in repugnance.

The glare from Cavallo was horrifying. He stood back up on his feet and wiped the blood off his face with one hand. He shot his hand towards a guard who was closest to another hostage. "START PICKING 'EM OFF!"

"NO!!!" You heard yourself scream out from the balcony. You whipped up a loose piece of your clothing to reveal a concealed holster that carried your pistol. With adrenaline pulsing through your body you only gave a slight effort to aim at Cavallo. You fired at him only to miss _horribly._

Heavy shooting from firearms was immediate. You backed down to the floor and crammed yourself tightly against the wall.

"UP THERE!"

"GET TO THE BALCONY!"

"MOVE! MOVE!!"

Multiple screams rang in the room as the shooting carried on. Your eyes were sealed tight. What have you done?

Footsteps stomped up the stairs. Soon you were faced with a group of men who had weapons of their own. Your pistol sat beside you; just in arm's reach. There was a moment of static between you and them, none moved. Both parties just glared at each other. In one jerk, you attempted to reach for your gun.

They shot at the pistol and your hand which caused it to propel backward and for your hand to retreat close to your body.

A big man who stood in the middle of the men approached you. With no effort in being gentle, he grabbed onto the back of your top which forced you to stand back up. He forcefully rushed your front right into the railing of the skywalk to reveal your presence to the entire floor.

"Let me go!!" You demanded. You tried squirming your lower half, but it seared in pain.

Cavallo gazed up at you with a slight surprise. You definitely were not what he was expecting. He held a hand up to the others who had their weapons aimed up towards you. "Hold your fire boys. Bring 'er down here." He gestured to the gang upstairs. With the same brute force, the man dragged you down the stairs and towards the young man. You kicked and squirmed the entire way.

Then there you hung; face-to-face with that weasel of a man. His hands were behind his back as he observed you once more. "So, _that's_ where you went." He walked from side to side to see you at all angles. "You've been causin' me reeeeal trouble, little lady." Your scowl at him was dark.

He took one hand from behind his back and forcefully placed it onto your chin and squeezed your cheeks. His gaze right into your eyes was fierce. If eyes could recede further into the skull-- you would have let yours do so.

"But 'ey... You're quite the looker. The Boss Man 'ould just _die_ to have a doll like you in his posse of sluts." You were beyond revolted. Easily one of the biggest slimeballs you have ever encountered in your entire life.

"Go to hell." You growled.

This caused him to smirk. "Feisty, aren't we's?" He dropped his hand off your face and back onto his. He looked at you with demented admiration.

"Uhh... Boss?" One of the men spoke up. He walked towards him holding a tattered piece of cloth. He handed it to Cavallo as he looked at it in confusion.

Then something clicked in his mind.

"Wait a minute..." He paced back up to you and forcefully stretched up the loose part of your clothing. He compared the cloth in his hand to the one on your body.

They were the exact same.

"You're the one who's been eavesdroppin' on our conversation!" He grabbed hold of your shoulders and began to squeeze them harshly. The big man who once held you now let go to have the boss handle you. Pisani was at your side and looked up at you astounded.

"YOU BITCH!" Cavallo screeched. He let go of your shoulders and swiped you right across the face. Its impact was so extreme it made you fall back onto the floor. The intense sting of the slap left tears welled up in your eyes. You brought a hand up to cover it as your blurred vision returned to the bastard. He took his handgun out from his side and pointed it down right at you.

"I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT WE DO TO SLEUTHS-"

Cavallo's chest jerked awkwardly to the side. The sound of a dinky gunshot rang in the air. Then another one. It caused the man to jerk strangely once again as he fell onto his side with a groan.

The next part was a haze to you. You felt the impact of someone rush right into you. Slightly lifting you into the air, you were up and over the bar counter in one smooth action. Guns were alive and blazing in the room in your direction.

You rubbed the remaining tears from your eyes. You didn't care if you ruined your makeup at this point. Your head was also pressed closely against someone's chest. It was tight, but not forceful. There was a familiar fragrance of aromatic cologne and a hint of cigarettes. You looked up at what seemed to be your savior.

Upon their reveal, you instantly moved from their grip with terror.

It was one of the suited men!

His body was in a squatting position trying to get a view from over the counter without getting shot. He turned to you and saw your frightened face. A dawning look came across him; almost like he had forgotten about something.

Blue smoke came from around the man. It quickly consumed his body only to leave a lumpy shape of his body position. Within a few seconds, it revealed him once again.

"Spy!!" You cried. You didn't know what to feel more of; surprise or relief. It didn't matter, he came to help you! A small smirk curled onto his lips.

"You didn't think I was going to let 'ou do this on your own, did you?" He questioned. A bottle from the shelf above you shattered. Before a storm of glass could rain down on you, you felt Spy press himself on top of yours for cover.

"Alright, mademoiselle?" Spy looked down at you to examine for any cuts or scrapes.

"Yeah... thanks."

He was so close...

... But now wasn't the time to think about that!

He lifted himself back up and turned his head towards you and in a loud voice to reach over the gunfire he shouted. "Do you have a weapon?"

"No! They pushed it away from me when I was on the balcony!" You pointed up to where you were on the walkway. Spy looked up in that direction with determination. The revolver that once stuck up in his hand now sat in yours.

"We need to get up there!" He exclaimed back to you.

"Why?!"

"Look!" He pointed to the large metal chandelier. It hung right over where the majority of the gang members stood... But also the hostages. "You need to get up there and shoot down that chandelier! I'll move the hostages and give you cover!" He called out. Butterfly knife in one hand, and another strange-looking pistol in the other; he got up and began to shoot back at the crowd. "Now, Backer! Go!!"

You scrambled to your feet. Laying low, you exited from where the bartop served as a barricade to behind a flipped over wooden table. It made the experience all the more nerve-racking. You peaked out from behind the table and fired at anyone who blocked your way. You weren't the best aim, but good enough to incapacitate them.

The sounds of cries of help came from your right. Thrusting your head you witnessed a man in a coat grabbing hold to the bartender with a gun to his chest. You aimed Spy's revolver at them and tried to shoot only for it to not fully click.

Damn, the trigger was stuck.

In a state of panic, you threw the entirety of the pistol right at the coated man. He turned to you confused as you approached to wrestle his weapon out of his grip. Having a physical advantage over you, he shoved you down to the ground and aimed right at your head.

The man suddenly fell forward right next to you just barely catching himself. A leg of a wooden chair was within your reach; you picked it up and hit the man right on the back of the noggin. He fell to the ground unconscious. Pisani stood wobbling on his feet to keep balance for he tried to rush your attacker. He looked down at you and gave a nod.

Pulling both the bartender and Pisani to behind the table, you helped unite their ropes with shaky hands. Your heart was racing. They both looked at you with great gratitude.

"Thank you, young lady!" The bartender managed a smile amidst the craziness. You nodded and began eying the stairs.

"No problem. When it's safe; help everyone out through the exit!" Your index finger pointed to the kitchen. They looked at it and both shook their heads approvingly. The barkeep handed you back the revolver you threw. You were about to rush for the door when a large hand grabbed your wrist that stopped you.

"Miss, can I get your name? Please?" It was Pisani. He had a look of wonder and fear in his eyes. Your head turned with a smile.

"I'm afraid not. That doesn't matter now. There are more people to save." His hand slid off your arm as you gunned it to the steps.

Right at the entrance, you were greeted with a "warm welcome". One man who was on the stairs came barging down towards you with a pocketknife in hand. Swiftly, you move to the side of the stairs and push him down the rest of the way and using your leg to trip him. He was a mangled mess at the bottom as you continued your path upwards.

You reached the top of the stairs and rushed in towards the frame.

But you paused; way too abruptly.

Falling awkwardly onto your ankle; you barely caught yourself on the railing as another guy met you at the top and took no hesitation to fire at what was your past elevation for your head. Your other hand wielding the gun rose up on instinct from falling and you prayed for the best.

You fired.

The man's head jerked back as his body immediately plopped face down onto the platform in front of you. A pool of blood formulated from his cranium.

Boom.

Headshot.

You regained your posture and tried running up the stairs again. The pain in your right ankle was unbearable almost immediately. You cried out in agony as you looked down at it. It looked way more swollen and red than normal.

Please only be a sprain.

**_Please only be a sprain._ **

You limped the rest of the way up and watched the scene below. The people tied up were now all moved to the same corner of the floor by the kitchen. The men you set loose looked like they were slowly directing the others out of the building from the exit as you ordered. Cavallo sat with his boys. Even as he bled out from his chest he was still barking orders. His chest rose and fell deeply as a pale finger pointed around the room in confusion. He was truly a leader by choice. Not a good one, but a leader.

Only a few of the bigger guys remained. The rest were seen to have fallen either dead or injured. You looked everywhere, but you couldn't see Spy. Hobbling to the other side of the skywalk you picked up your fallen gun and placed it back into your hands. You tried to make yourself useful by hiding behind the rail and shooting down at the men below you.

You noticed something strange. A small glisten of a rainbow dripped down seemingly out of nowhere and in front of the main doors.

It looked like gasoline.

You eventually ran out of ammo in your gun. You placed it back in your concealed holster. You hoped that he would give you a sign of some sort to tell you it's clear to shoot with the other one.

It caught your attention that a chain with plenty of slack was lazily spread out at the end of the platform. You picked it up to tug it out more. It looked like a connecting chain that wasn't used to hang the chandelier. It hung in the same area as the other chains did to support the ceiling fixture.

Rushing motions came from the stairs. You lifted your gun to the entrance bracing for the moment if you had to shoot. Spy revealed himself at the top and leaned himself onto the skywalk. His outfit seemed ramshackle with blood and other stains. He also sported a black eye as well. He took notice of the dead man on the platform but didn't comment on it. Walking past him, he crouched towards you. The gunfire came back to where you were located. Cavallo's orders were white noise at this point.

Spy saw the chain in your hand and followed it to its source. He then peered down at the mobsters below. He sat in thought for a moment, but then his head turned back towards you. "You have good aim, correct?"

"No, not really." Your voice was nervous.

"Well, you need to have it now. Shoot the chain as I said before. But now, I need you to do something else as well," Spy dug into his pocket to revealed a chunky metal object. With a flick of his wrist and thumb the top part of the square popped open and a flame flickered between the two of you, "This is a windproof lighter. We need to use this and drop it in front of entrance. It should not extinguish unless the top is closed" He took your open hand and placed the lit lighter into it carefully.

You nodded your head and began to move back up, but Spy stopped you.

"On my mark. I have a plan. Can I have that chain?"

You handed it to him as the both of you stood up with caution to make sure you wouldn't get shot. Spy brought an arm out and brought you close to him. You could feel your face heat up as he did so. The two of you began to back up towards the wall.

"Hold on tightly, ma Lolotte..." He told you with caution. You positioned so you were comfortable in his grip.

... Wait.

What was he doing?

Spy lifted you up. He made sure there was no slack between you guys and the chain. "... Because here... we. GO!!"

With a sudden burst of speed, Spy rushed up and over the skywalk's guardrail. A gust of wind flew around the two of you.

Over your cries of fear, you heard Spy exclaim "BACKER! DROP THE LIGHTER! _DROP THE LIGHTER!!" The lighter that was once sticking out in front of you was now gone with one simple drop. It took a moment, but the entire floor in front of it burst into flames. Spy and yourself were just barely above where it rose._

__

Your projected hitting point was the wall. Spy began to shift around on the chain while holding you up with all his might. He managed to flip you guys in the opposite direction to face the skywalk. Using the backs of his feet, Spy kicked off the wall to give that extra boost.

__

Now facing you once more was the metal chandelier. "SHOOT THE CHAIN NOW!" Spy called out. Out of fear, you shut your eyes, but you pulled the trigger.

__

A sudden loose feeling came from the shackles that you swung on. The clanking sound of metal and moving chains all happened in the blink of an eye.

__

Brief sounds of surprised yells came below before being overshadowed by the sound of a large crash from the crown's collapse. You opened your eyes up again. You were still swinging.

__

**AND HEADING RIGHT FOR THE WINDOW.**

__

_"OH MY GOD SPY-!"_

__

He brought his feet up and kicked at the glass panes. Shattering glass surrounded you as Spy brought his now free hand and wrapping you two into a tight embrace. Both of you were screaming waiting for an impact.

__

The sound of rustling bushes came next. You didn't want to look. You just kept your grip tight and head buried against Spy's waist and chest. Your arms shook. Your heart was racing.

__

Spy's grip around you loosened up. Which made you more willing to pick your head up to observe the scene.

__

"Spy...?" You asked slowly. The impact seemed a lot more... soft then you were expecting. You shifted a little in his grip.

__

_"Putain!_ Ow.." He groaned to your movement which startled you.

__

"Sorry!! I'm trying to get off of you but-" You rustled in the bush a bit. You couldn't get yourself free. "I- can't-- move!!"

__

Your body rolled to just the right angle. It caused you to somersault backward and land on your back onto the grass. You got up to gently help Spy out of the bush to the best of your ability without hurting him more.

__

"Are you okay?" You asked with concern.

__

"I'm fine, mon amie... And you?"

__

"I think I'm okay, too." A smile resurfaced on his face. The two of you were completely bedraggled. Bloodstains, some loose or stretched clothing, and your hair was a mess. Now, you both had cuts from the glass window. Hopefully, none was stuck in your skin.

__

You could hear that the people were conversing with some officers on the side of the building. The small bits of conversation included "Grau Frau" and "Blau Mann". Spy must have heard it, too.

__

"I think now is the time for us to get going." He stated. You gave him a small nod in return.

__

"I couldn't agree more."

__

You two of you began to walk when you curled up to grab your ankle. You winced in pain as Spy looked down at it with worry.

__

"That looks really bad, chérie..." Effortlessly, he scooped you off your feet and carried you as if you were a princess in distress. "...Simply not good enough to walk on."

__

Your face flared up with red by his sudden action. To keep balance you quickly wrapped your arms around his neck. You were really starting to hate heights of any sort. But you truly did appreciate the gesture, though. It was really sweet of him.

__

"When did that happen?" He asked you as he began to walk back towards the map's boundaries.

__

"I was on the stairs. The guy at the top surprised me and I must've fallen back on it funny." You explained.

__

"Well for falling backwards, you got a pretty good shot to the head."

__

"Thanks?" You didn't know if you should take that as a compliment. "You did a nice job helping everyone out."

__

"It is not a problem. And thank you, but I only moved some of them. It looked like you untied the manager, and he and the bartender helped everyone out." You nodded your head.

__

You looked forward to the trail in front of you two before turning your head back to him, "Spy?"

__

"Yes, mademoiselle?" He answered.

__

"Thanks for coming back for me. I wouldn't have been able to do it without you. Or-- make it out _alive_ for that matter." A look of peace was in his eyes.

__

"There's no need to thank me. It was the right thing to do. Just like how you helped those people. That's what friends are for, are they not?" You felt your heart warm up at what he said.

__

You gave a him shy grin and a small giggle.

__

His expression seemed to approve. There was a moment of silence between the two of you before he spoke up again. "Did you see how we swung on that chandelier? _Good lord--_ I thought I was going to let go and fall." The adrenaline of the situation seemed to kick in. You lifted yourself a little from against his chest with wide eyes.

__

"YOU were going to fall?! I clung on for dear life! Not to mention we jumped out of a freaking WINDOW!" Your reaction made him laugh.

__

"It wasn't _that_ bad. I've been through worse." His bragging made your cheeks puff out.

__

"You suck, Spy." You mumbled in a huffy tone. He still kept smiling.

__

"I know, chérie. I know."

__

__

*******

__

__

It was awkward for you to enter Medic's medical room and explain why your ankle was all messed up. Spy advised you to go to him right away as soon as he dropped you off at the base, you ended up cleaning and patching your cuts. You didn't want to bother the doctor so late so you managed to painfully sleep on it.

__

You knew it was a horrible decision from the beginning, but you did it out of fear.

__

Luckily, it was only a sprain. Though it was in really bad condition because you waited so long to attend to it. When Medic asked how it happened you used the story you formulated in your head from the night before; something about tripping over a raised part in the concrete and falling strangely.

__

The good news is Medic gave it a splint to recover on. He told you it would begin to feel better in about a week- and fully heal in about two to three. The bad news was that you still had to complete clean-up, only you needed one other member of the team to help you to make sure you didn't get hurt again.

__

Damn, it may be a while before you saw your Spy friend again.

__

... Maybe there was another way to get in contact with him?

__

A day has passed and now Medic and yourself sat in the kitchen. You finished a small bowl of oatmeal, and Medic sat across the table reading the local newspaper with a cup of coffee. The two of you didn't make many conversations during that time, and Engie, Demoman, and Pyro came from their rooms and greeted you two good morning. It was when you turned your attention to Medic's paper again that you noticed something.

__

The side of the paper that faced you showed a large picture of the lounge from the other night. In the front were some of the hostages that were previously tied up now sitting by an ambulance talking with some officers and paramedics. You couldn't read the headline because it was in German. So with hesitance, you spoke out, "Hey, Medic? What does that headline say?"

__

Doc peaked his head from the paper. "What was that, Fräulein? Oh! The paper? Ja, uh..." He turned the cover towards him and scanned over it. **_"Unknown Heroes Save Hostages and Deface Crime_**. Or something of that nature. It's actually really interesting-- I'm reading it right now. Care to hear what it's about?"

__

You nodded your head eagerly as you pulled out a chair next to him to look at the contents inside of the article. It was decorated with familiar faces from that night. One was the bartender, another a saddened Pisani in the back of a squad car, and one of a demolished lounge.

__

Medic swiped his finger across the first few sentences. "I'm not the best translator, but I'll do my best." He cleared his throat and began.

__

" _'Last night a local bar enacts events of adversity. Those of which include, a fire, rendezvous of an infamous oversea mafia, and a shootout on the main bar floor. Reinhold Pisani, general manager of Hazyfort's local watering hole met with Joseph Cavallo. Cavallo revealed to be a Caporegime to the disreputable Italian-American "Newark Crime Family". It is unknown who exactly he is an underling of at the moment. Pisani met Cavallo as an associate -to-capo over a money-laundering scandal that has been happening between different lounges and inns across the world for years...'"_ The article then went into detail about the organizations and the schemes they tend to pull. The next page showed more images of what happened that night.

__

_"'... Bar goers that night were tied and held against their will and threatened by gunpoint. According to the victims, two previously tied up bar attendees managed to escape from the facility. None could catch their names-- nor no photographic evidence was taken to lead to their appearance, but they were described as a man in blue and a woman in gray. With some time they managed to create tension with Cavallo and his gang of soldiers and start a wide-spread shootout in the building. The duo managed to reduce the enemies in the area, and helped the barman and Pisani lead the victims to escape the building...'"_

__

Your throat felt dry. Man in blue and woman in gray. It sounded so eerie to you. It didn't seem to give away much about you, but it was still strange to hear.

__

_"... Upon investigating the building after the incident it was left in shambles. Tables and chairs flipped, glass everywhere, and even the interior's large metal chandelier came crashing down on some of the gang members; crushing them to death. Cavallo was discovered in the building with gunshot wounds, yelling that he saw 'two schmucks' crush the gasolier onto his men and escape through the window."_ Medic adjusted his glasses. "Then there are some quotes from some of the witnesses. The bartender said _'I spoke with the two earlier that night. A lovely couple whom I shall forever hold debt to.'"_

__

'Lovely couple'?? A misconception, but one that didn't surprise you. You couldn't help but blush a little at the statement. To conceal it, you brought your hands up to your cheeks.

__

"The manager said, _'Whatever outcome came was a losing battle for me. I was lucky to face this one. If the woman in gray sees this; thank you for listening in on our conversation. I would be a dead man by now if it wasn't for you. Both of you were definitely our heroes for the night.' ... Pisani and Cavallo shall face criminal charges once they recover from any injuries inflicted upon them. The results of the crisis were a miracle, for there only being minor injuries to those held captive. It is unknown if these heroes choose to remain anonymous or are not made aware of their bravery. For the time being, upon waiting for their identities, it is safe to say that Hazyfort was made a safer place for all.'"_

__

Your attention was drawn away to look at the room around you. At some point, the rest of the team made it into the dining hall as well. They seemed to listen in on Medic's narration. Most of them seemed somewhat bored by the article.

__

"Isn't that exciting?" Medic asked the crowd enthusiastically.

__

"You kiddin' me, Doc? We literally do cooler stuff than that _every day."_ Scout slumped over your chair's backing.

__

"You've got to admit though... It's pretty impressive for a couple of civilians." Engineer tried to bargain with the group. He only got a few grumbles from the guys in response.

__

"THERE IS NOTHING INTERESTING ABOUT CIVILIANS--" Soldier made sure to include.

__

"It's good story; just not good as us." Heavy had his arms crossed looking at the article's images.

__

"Hey, hey! I gotta theory now! WHAT IF-- what if one of dose 'unknown heroes' was one of us, huh? Who here owns blue??" Scout piped up again and looked around at the other men.

__

"... We cannot wear blue, Scout. The Administrator told us that." Spy commented.

__

"Well? What about Backer? She could 'ov been the woman in gray!" This made your heart stop. You didn't know how to respond. What do you do?

__

"Yah kiddin' me, right mate?" Sniper muttered. "Back-uh's the only one who _listens_ to the rules around here. Unlike you blokes, she'd couldn't pull somethin' like that off." 

__

Ouch. Seriously? Now you kind of wanted to brag.

__

"I mean good for 'em... Just kinda lame." Demoman concluded as the group began to disperse from the table. Medic got up and left to do his own tasks as well. This left you alone at the table to lean on with a long sigh.

__

"Yeah... how lame.."

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOO-Y DOGGY THAT WAS A MARATHON
> 
> I once again apologize if not giving an accent to Medic/Spy takes away from the story... It's just one of those things I struggle to write in :(
> 
> But I thank you all for sticking with the story this far! You guys rock!!
> 
> Translations:
> 
>   
> **Mademoiselle-** Miss [French]
> 
>  **Ma Lolotte-** A name to describe a free-willed & kind friend [French]
> 
>  **Putain!-** Fuck! [French]
> 
>  **Mon amie-** My friend (feminine) [French]
> 
>  **Grau Frau-** Gray Woman [German]
> 
>  **Blau Mann-** Blue Man [German]
> 
>  **Chérie-** Dear (feminine) [French]


	11. "B" Stands For Benchwarmer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being injured isn't easy :)

A new challenge was offered to your job since you began wearing a splint. Some were due to the object itself; while it was annoying to wear around as your injury recovered, you were able to manage fine. The other was all the unnecessary assistance you were receiving because of it.

The first few days Medic made you use crutches to get around and emphasized that you should not put ANY weight on it since it was such a severe sprain. That's when you were most grateful for the other mercenaries' assistance. There were times it served as a challenge to carry specific items while also trying to support your balance on the sticks. Though after a few days you were able to gradually put more weight on your foot as it healed.

Assistance remained the same as it did since the first day of your injury even though you felt more capable to move around by yourself. You could understand the concern expressed behind it; having everyone in tip-top shape to work as quickly and efficiently as possible was vital to the team. You just didn't like the fact it restrained you from doing things independently. Having to rely on someone "holding your hand" so you could get your work done was an inconvenience to both your colleagues and yourself. As a consequence, you saw more failures to win battles during those first few days.

These were the times you wondered why Medic couldn't just use his medigun on your foot as he would with everybody else with far worse injuries? If it was such an issue to remain hurt, why not just heal it back to good health like you have seen a million times over on the others? You never asked these questions to Medic. More than likely, he would give you roundabout answers, as normal, if you asked anything close to a question involving battle technology.

Between Scout's teasing of calling you "Captain Iron Ankles", "Twigs", or whatever other impudent names under the sun, the constant check-ins with Medic, and having to rest for longer periods of time than you wished; post-clean-up was the most bittersweet of them all. For the worst days of the injury, the BLU Spy was nowhere to be seen as you cleaned with the one other mercenary (as they got permission from the Administrator to do so). Perhaps he took notice that you weren't alone so he did not interact? Maybe he was busy so could not roam? Who knows. Whatever the case was, you kind of began to miss his company in specific. It was interesting to talk to someone outside of RED. Plus, Spy was always such a charming person to chat with. You didn't bring your book out during these nights because you knew the other men on your team wouldn't be as interested going through it with you as the BLU Spy was.

When you got your diagnosis, you thought about maybe there was a way for you to get in contact with Spy in some other form. The thought gnawed at your mind for a few days, especially when cleaning. Before the third night, you got an idea. You were sitting in your room. Grabbing a pen and paper you wrote a small note:

_If you get this please meet here five minutes before my normal clean-up time tomorrow. I have something for you._

_\- B_

You folded the paper in half and stuffed it in a free pocket in your cargo pants. That night you were doing clean-up rounds with Pyro. When they weren't around, you casually placed the paper down at the normal picnic table that you and Spy would sit at and read during your time at Hazyfort. You took a small piece of duct-tape and secured the paper to the tabletop. There wasn't a guarantee he'll get the note, let alone be outside for all you know. But it was worth a shot.

Pyro's technique certainly made the job go a lot... quicker... Instead of taking the remains to the incinerator, they brought the incinerator to the remains. There were countless times where you thought the fire from the flame torch was going to catch you on fire as they maniacally waved it around in the air. A method you did not question, but most certainly did not want to try again.

It was late, and by this time Pyro and you have departed ways for the evening. You stalled near the living room area and listened to the area around you closely. It was dead quiet between there and the hall that led to the mercs' rooms. Once the silence made you feel at ease, you took a small satchel bag from out of the closet that was off to the side. Then, you began to travel down the opposite hall in the area towards Engineer's workshop.

A metal door separated the inside of the facility into his workspace. A small metal window decorated its frame, and it was pitch black on the opposite side. Engie must have gone to bed. With great vigilance, you limped towards the door and slowly began to pull down on the handle.

It was unlocked. And with the same care, you entered the room.

The darkness soaked the room, and you did not dare to switch the lights on. Your hand dove into one of your pockets and took out your replacement flashlight you were given for cleaning while you made sure to bring it with you on this excursion. You knew what _exactly_ you were looking for. Flicking on the switch, you then wrapped it around your head and scanned the zone.

The workshop for Engineer was big, but not as big as the one at 2Fort. Every place you guys have traveled seemed to be like that. They have every room and most items prepped, besides the ones you decide to bring along on the journey of course. It did not take you long to discover what you were looking for. On a workbench of to the side near the wall sat multiple little metal cubes. Each cube had the same design on them accompanied by a small red button on the side. With reluctance, you lifted one up with two hands while supporting your crutches between your armpits. The box was somewhat heavy; just as you were expecting. After briefly observing it, you slid it into the bag on your shoulder. You then continued to pick another one up and place it into the bag as well.

Having two in one bag was really starting to weigh down on your arm. You tried to move with your crutches and the bag on one side, but it served as a difficult process. So, you shifted the bag so it slung across your body. Still a challenge, but not as bad as before. Trying to maintain the same sneakiness; you slipped out from the workshop, closed the door quietly, and began to lurch towards your room.

Once in the safety of your own room, you placed the bag onto your bed. You put your crutches off to the side and sat at your bedside as you revealed one of the metal boxes once more. You gently placed it onto your floor and pressed the button.

The box sprung open to life. It made a quiet buzzing noise as the contents within slowly began to reveal itself as the all too similar tool you commonly saw on the battlefield with the men; the teleporter. This one was about a quarter of the size as the ones you have commonly seen, plus it did not begin to spin.

You took out the second one and placed it onto the floor next to the first one. You pressed the button and it continued the same process. Once both were fully set up, you waited in anticipation.

A few seconds later, both ends of the tiny teleporters began to slowly spin. The motion grew faster, and a small spark of red light began to glow from the middle. Soon enough, the two boxes revealed to be tiny functioning teleporters. A cheerful grin grew on your face. Your plan was officially in action. What all depends on it now is if Spy even sees your note. Only time could tell until later.

*******

The evening couldn't have come any sooner. That night you were scheduled to clean with Heavy. You told him to take his time to finish eating dinner while you went and got "everything ready to clean". That should buy you just enough time. Plus, Heavy was a slow walker so it bought a little extra on the side.

Before heading to where your supplies were, you made sure to stop by your room and bring along one of the mini-teleporters from last night. You stuffed it into the satchel bag from the night before. Leaving the wheelbarrow and gear out further into the streets from spawn, you dashed out towards the rendezvous point as fast as your crutches and the weight of the bag could carry you.

Just as you turned the corner your heart jumped up in your chest. There he was! 

Spy stood at the bench with a small smile as you approached him. You couldn't help but have a joyful look on your face as you grew closer.

Spy held up a piece of paper that was neatly folded between his index, middle, and thumb. "I assumed that this was you?" He questioned, a small lace of awareness in his voice.

You sat down on the bench, you were about to place your crutches on the ground when Spy took them and neatly set them on the opposite side of the table. "Yeah, I just had an idea the other day. I remembered Engie was telling us he was working on these as a fun project!" You showcased the mini box to Spy. He raised a brow at the contraption.

"What is it?" He asked.

"It's a mini-teleporter. I thought I could give you one and we could be pen pals!" You exclaimed. Your keenness made Spy chuckle.

"Oh, Backer. Of course it was you who came up with that idea." He teased.

You laughed a tiny bit yourself before continuing, "It's going to be a while before my ankle fully heals. So Medic told me some of the guys on my team have to help me out with some tasks that involve a lot of labor until it's back to normal." You explained to him.

Your eyes scanned his face. It looked like his black eye, bruises, and all his other cuts and marks had completely gone away. It didn't surprise you, his wounds could be treated because of respawning or with Medic's healing gun more than likely. He solemnly shook his head.

"It must not be easy. I apologize, but is there no way your Medic cannot heal you with his equipment?" He asked. The conversation was going into more work-sensitive areas. He may not have intended for it to, though.

You shrugged your shoulders. "I'm not sure." It was the truth, just the very vague edition of it. Just as extra security by not exposing too much information. You turned around to look behind you. You could hear Heavy calling out for you back by your fort. Your head turned back to Spy as he handed you back your crutches and he picked up the teleporter. "I gotta get going. The red button on the side turns it on. You know it works when you see the glowing thingy in the middle. Also, I think it's only linked to mine so you shouldn't worry about something going to another teleporter."

You hoisted yourself up to your stable foot while still looking at Spy. "I hope we can speak to each other soon." The phrase sounded strange to you. It left you with some sadness, but anticipation for the future as well.

Spy kept his sweet demeanor. "As do I, Backer. Now get going before I get you into trouble."

You obeyed his orders and met up with Heavy. A look of strange surprise rode on his face. "Little woman, I thought you disappeared?" He questioned in shock. You beamed at his surprise.

"No, Heavy. I was just scoping out the area. Just to see how much we're dealing with." The man didn't comment anything else, he just nodded his head and the two of you immediately got to work.

The nice part about cleaning up with your teammates was that you got the opportunity to speak to those you commonly don't have as much of a close relationship with. Especially the more quiet ones like Sniper or Spy. Heavy was a lot similar to them, as he did not exchange many conversations with you unless he asked a question involving the task at hand.

Everything about Heavy was very stolid, but you didn't mind. You felt that sometimes the guys were a little tough on him. Usually calling him dumb because of his speed physically and mentally as well. He was always very stoic when he wasn't on the battlefield. You didn't know much about him because of how reserved he was.

"It's nice that you get to be out here to help me. I don't really talk to you all that much outside of missions." You tried to spark some conversation. Maybe you could get to know him a bit more now.

"'Is nice. Backer is very busy woman." His statement was very matter-the-fact and short.

"I guess so... Usually, once you get into a schedule you stick to what you know, right? I feel it's the same way with the people you normally talk to as well." You kept a kind and quiet voice.

"Is this your way of saying you're getting tired of Scout yet?" He questioned, a small smirk rested on the side of his face as an eyebrow arched up. This made you laugh.

"Not necessarily. I mean it more in a general way. Like talking to some of the guys I don't have as much leisure time with." You paused to put some parts into the wheelbarrow, but Heavy picked them up for you. "Thanks... So, what are some of your hobbies? I hate to sound dry, but I just don't know that much about you."

The two of you walked your loads to the incinerator as Heavy hummed to himself to think. "Heavy likes taking care of Sasha-- and eating sandviches." He nodded assuringly.

"I think we all know that already, Heavy. I mean outside of that. Do you like to draw? Sing? I like to read books if that helps."

"What do you enjoy reading?" Now he was asking _you_ the questions.

An awkward mix of a sigh and laugh came from behind your closed lips. "I like to read classic literature. Some of the others back at base tease me about it being dorky, but you just can't beat the originals! I hope by the end of my life I can write a story of my own." You caught yourself going on a spiel; classic for when you get into topics you were really passionate about.

"Funny you mention writing. Long ago, I earn Ph.D. in Russian Literature." He was so casual mentioning it, but it left you somewhat dumbstruck. It made you happy for the Russian man.

"That's so neat! My guess is that you had to read a lot of the greats' works then?"

"Correct."

"I also assume you've read some of Leo Tolstoy's works?"

Heavy nodded his head.

"Have you ever read _Anna Karenina?"_ The excitement in your voice began to build up. Please say yes, please say yes!!

"I have happened to so yes."

Your mind broke into a happy dance of euphoria. Your body perked up a from your crutches. "Oh my gosh, I _love_ that story!! Did you like it? What did you think about Konstantin Levin's character? The beginning notes that came with the story were correlating his character with Tolstoy himself and in all honesty, I think he could have suited just as good a protagonist role as Anna..."

You went on another spiel again. Heavy didn't comment. He just continued to help clean while looking down at you and occasionally nodding. It seemed as though you were talking too fast for him to follow, but he didn't want to interrupt you. He did implement an occasional verbal agreement as well. You were officially in the zone.

After some time you calmed yourself down. Your speech slowed down realizing you may have gotten a little too into it. This was exciting for you, though! It turned out Heavy was more familiar with classic Russian literature, of course. So you tried to discuss more of those titles that you may have known. Truly, it felt like you bonded with him for some time.

You were able to split a few small laughs and somewhat deeper analysis of some stories, but it was limited to Heavy's English vocabulary at times. You haven't had this close of a tie of interest with someone besides the BLU Spy. You would argue Scout as well, but really, you weren't sure if you had anything in common with him or not. You two just kinda clicked over some time. It was just nice to get to know someone else a little closer. Clean-up finished a lot quicker than you expected (especially once after you started talking). With satisfied looks with your work and discussion, you and Heavy concluded for the night.

...

...

...

The metal box you gave to him still sat in his grip.

The translucent figure that stood a safe distance away had a view for kings.

Right on them.

Right on _you._

The Spy's cigar that hung from his lips was also concealed by the cloak. His eyes had cat-like ambition as he observed your every action. His ears listened to your every saying. He witnessed the whole scene shrouded in the safety that his watch provided him.

He felt indifference and a hint of vexation. If one could see him; his body language expressed it as well. Not to the one he observed, but only himself. To be quite frank, he wasn't surprised to not praise his abilities so far.

The pace he took with the scenario was beginning to drag out a little too long for his liking. Perhaps the beginning of your friendship with him wasn't as personal as he thought based on what he just witnessed. As of now, it was safe for him to assume he has gained your trust.

... as a distant friend.

Spy couldn't help but grin to himself a little.

Perhaps there was _some_ satisfaction he possessed.

His eyes slid back down to the metal box in his hands. He just thought about how eagerly your actions and voice were willing to give it over to him. ... But your eyes. Oh, _God_ those eyes

They told a completely different story.

Take the quote "eyes are a window to the soul". Now instead of a window make it a mirror that distorts one's shape. It renders them in ways that make the viewer unsure if that is their real physical appearance.

That's the feeling he got from them.

They spoke a thousand different messages. You attempt to give him attention as if you did contain trust, but break away at that last moment to observe the scene around you and just the right moment to leave him still questioning. So cautious-- for reasons Spy could never guess. There was rarely a certain emotion that he could read from them.

He looked at your lips, your hands, and anything below the bridge of your nose.

But he always saved the eyes for last. When he did see them, it left him in a strange trance of sorts.

The spy had every reason to be consumed by those pairs. The constant feeling of discontent and suspicion that gazed upon him had to keep him on his toes. Your voice speaks as if he's had your trust for weeks, but your vision says otherwise.

This is what makes the game fun for Spy, though. What's a game without a challenge? Just as the first day they met, it is what keeps him interested in his mission.

All events so far have led him to conclude his next course of action:

**Phase two.**

He knew exactly how he would carry out the deed. Spy took out his Spytron and examined it in silence. The bottom corner box still remained empty. Just waiting-- _dying_ to be unveiled.

He brought a gloved hand up and the pads of his fingers gently tapped across his lips. The air hung mute as he pondered. He brought the cigar out from his mouth and let out a low chuckle.

_It was time to tame those eyes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing needs to be translated for this chapter! 
> 
> I did have an idea that's been going through my mind as of late though:
> 
> Would any of you be interested in starting a TF2 AO3 discord server? Readers, writers, all alike can join! Feel free to express your thoughts below :D
> 
> EDIT: I did such a bad job revising this chapter. there’s so many grammatical errors :/. I should seriously start doing this during the day instead of at night.


	12. No Questions Asked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It turns out Engineer, Medic, and yourself don't like being asked questions... :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All translations are at the end of the chapter!
> 
> Hey! Are you interested in getting to know people within the TF2 writing community? Lucky for you, there's a Discord server just for that! Readers and writers alike are free to join (plus, I'm looking for some staff members!) We'd love to have you, here's the link:
> 
> https://discord.gg/tufNyVq
> 
> Hope to see you soon! <3

Like all places you have traveled; your team's stay in Austria came to a close. You couldn't decide whether to feel grateful or disappointed. For sure one thing that was made up in your mind was that it was certainly more eventful compared to your last locations. You liked Hazyfort, and perhaps one day you may wish to visit again on your own time...

When everyone forgets about the bar mishap.

The great news was that you all were informed that you will be stationed at 2Fort once again for some time. Everyone was overjoyed, for them it seemed to be a place they could call home. You certainly did not mind to go back; your space for an office was a lot more spacious. Plus, the back areas you can maneuver through were a lot shorter due to the battlefield being of a smaller scale.

It was like a trip down memory lane from your first experiences with RED!

Within about two days you all were back in the sweltering heat of the New Mexican desert. Perhaps it was one thing you could have cared less to ditch, but everything else seemed to have its perks.

Driving through the town of Teufort couldn't help but make you smile. It reminded you of the beaten up RED Bread truck pulling up in front of Miss Pauling and yourself where you first met Engie, Scout, and Soldier. Driving towards the old wooden red building flashbacked to the astonishment the building gave off when you first saw it in person. Finally, you couldn't help but remember the welcoming dinner the team threw for you as you all ate at the table with glee that evening. Even your room's bed that night felt like you were somewhere right at home.

It was strange to have the same sense of yearning to come back as some of the other mercenaries may have felt. Even if this was only your second time having to stay at this particular base, it was a nice feeling. You couldn't help but feel optimistic about the days to come.

Of course, your ankle was still an issue. It was making terrific progress with healing according to Medic. He said that if it kept up at the rate it was healing you could be back and walking like normal in about a week and a half. The thought filled you with delight; you wouldn't have to have constant help anymore! Even if you did have the ability to work alone, you were unsure if that meant you could meet with Spy again. It didn't bother you that much anyway. If you felt like communicating with him, you could just send a note anytime through the teleporter you gave him.

You were curious as to how that form of contact would work. Since the night you took the teleporters from the workshop you have yet to open yours back up. Hopefully, you weren't keeping your Spy friend waiting, but being caught up between base switches served you no time to sit down and write him a note.

On the first ceasefire back at 2Fort you came to realize; your office was pretty barebones. Besides the large computer that sat on the desk and whatever shelves and paper items the company included within the room. The stuff inside has probably been sitting there for years. Dust, poor lighting, and a strange smell riddled the space. So, you brought the decision on yourself that you wanted to spruce the place up to your liking. You might as well since you're contracted to stay here for a long while, and this may not be the last time you revisit the base.

You proposed your weekend's task to some of the other mercs. Pleasantly, Engineer opt to help you out by moving bigger objects using teleporters. He explained how he wanted to make some repairs to some of the gear in the intel room anyways. Medic volunteered as well solely to make sure you didn't reverse the healing on your ankle. Soon enough, everyone volunteered to help you out in some shape or form. Perhaps they wanted to only cure the weekend's boredom, but you did not mind.

"Hey Soldier, can you hand me that wrench? There's a wobbly part of the chair's structure I want to fix." You pointed to the socket wrench that was sprawled out on the floor of the intel room along with an assortment of other tools. You and the warm-blooded American sat on the floor going through a blueprint that laid out in front of the two of you. For the fun of it, Engie gave you and a few of the other mercenaries simple instructions to assemble some furniture kits he made himself.

"I want you to ask again, and I want you to ask like an AMERICAN!" The man in the helmet squawked. He held the wrench you pointed towards you as if it was a magic wand.

"Soldier, can I have the wrench? Uhh... GO AMERICA!! U.S.A! U.S.A!" You repeated the question raising your hands in the air at the 'go America' portion. Soldier let out a goofy chuckle and tossed the tool to you.

You tightened the part you wanted and rose to your feet looking down at your creation approvingly. Soldier got up and immediately hopped into the chair and began to spin in it. Your body turned to Engineer who was across the room tinkering on one of the panels on the wall.

"Wow, these kits turned out pretty nice. You did a nice job writing the instructions for them too." You complimented.

"Why that's very kind of you, pumpkin! 'Happy you enjoy them!" He turned to you and gave a friendly smile.

From the propped open door of your office, you heard the teleporter give off a buzzing sound as Scout grunted and almost flew forward onto his face holding a large open crate. He caught himself just before he could fall and stumbled back up to face the opening.

"Yo, Backie! Where does Engie want this scrap metal crap? I almost sliced my face fallin' into it!" He called to you, trying to peak his head from behind the box to look at your face.

"Just bring it in here, Scout!" Engineer called from the side of the room. His response was met with a bitter look from the young man.

"Uh- I was askin' the lady! Whateves." He stumbled towards the door frame with the crate. To his shock, the box didn't fit in the door frame. "Oh, great! It doesn't fit!" He complained as he tried to force the box through the door a few more times to no avail.

A long drawn out sigh came from the Texan as he strolled up to the door to meet you and Scout. "Now boy, why didn't you come through the teleporters that are out here in the intel room? There's THREE of them, for Pete's sake!"

"I got confused! I jus' went through a random one and it happened to be the one that's in here!" Scout blurted out.

"The _only_ one that goes to the office? That happens to be the _ONLY_ teleporter in Backer's bedroom?" The man in the hardhat raised a brow at the boy. Scout was immediately flustered by his accusation.

"I-It's nothin' like that! God, you guys suck!" His cheeks flared into a red tint. You rolled your eyes and couldn't help but laugh a little along with Engie.

Scout groaned and marched back towards the teleporter with the crate. The device made its all too familiar whirring and beeping. Within a few moments, he disappeared once more.

That gave you a queue to walk into the office. A few other mercenaries were scattered around the room. Heavy and Pyro were placing down a new desk to replace the old rickety one that supported the computer, Demoman was on a ladder replacing some of the burnt-out lightbulbs in the ceiling, Sniper was dusting off some of the shelves, Medic was reorganizing some of the file cabinets, and Spy was observing a new painting hung up on the wall while smoking a cigarette.

You first approached Pyro and Heavy. "Do you guys need help? I can carry something if you want." The two men turned to you. Pyro began to mumble something you weren't able to interpret. Heavy slowly shook his head.

"Backer's little foot needs rest. Heavy has it." He concluded as the two continued to readjust. You then approached Medic with the same positivity.

"Need any help, Medic?" You volunteered, slightly hovering over the open cabinet. In return, he gave you a goofy beam.

"Alles gut here, Backer." He assured you. You nodded your head and asked if Demo needed any assistance.

"I've got it, lass. Thanks for the offer!" He made sure to include. You repeated the same offer of help to Sniper.

"I'm almost done here, cobber. 'Appreciate it though." He nodded. This string of responses left you a little surprised.

"Trying to make yourself useful, I see?" The red Spy turned to you with his arms crossed, a smirk stretched on his face. You approached him putting a hand behind your neck.

"Yeah, it's just weird because I'm so used to having to give everyone a helping hand with something. I can't help but feel bad thinking you guys are doing the work _for_ me. It was my idea that wasn't meant to burden anyone with."

"Do not fret. Think of this as a thank you for all your hard work for us. Besides, I do not think any of us had anything better to do today." His head glanced back at the painting and your line of sight followed.

The creation in front of you was beyond gorgeous. The acrylic paint and tones blended together nicely with the atmosphere. Your head turned to the Frenchman out of curiosity, "Did you paint this?"

"Yes, I did." He confirmed.

"It's really beautiful. You did a wonderful job! I didn't know you could paint."

A look of pride surfaced on Spy's face, "Why, thank you, Backer. You're too kind. And painting is merely only a hobby to me. It helps pass the time."

You nodded your head. It seemed ridiculous while thinking about it for a long period of time, but perhaps the BLU Spy had a similar interest? Your team's Spy and he carried the same kind of tastes when comparing the two beings. Maybe it was just a coincidence? You made sure to mentally note it for later and looked back at the artwork.

"That's great to hear..." Your eyes settled on the painting. Something intriguing caught your eye about such a work of art. "... Yeah, the painting fits the atmosphere very well... almost too well." You had a hand to support your chin as your eyes traced back to the suited man. A smug smirk rested on your lips.

"What may you be implying, mademoiselle?" His eyes drifted towards yours with a somewhat stumped expression.

"Oh, nothing. I just notice that the painting just seems to fit perfectly with the room's theme. Right to the subject of the work. From what I know, this is your first time ever coming in here and seeing the room. Maybe _we've_ been snooping around here before?" You kept the same complacent look.

This made the Spy give his French sounding chuckle and mimicked your body language. It seemed like he admired the humor you carried with your keen eye, _"We_ may never know." He made sure to include.

Despite his open-ended comment it still mentally made you irked. You've heard about Spy going around and gathering bits and pieces of everyone's information. You were no exception to the rule. From what it seems, he may not know too much as of now.

"Alright, that should do it. Y'all ready to pack up?" Engie called out from the door into the room. Most heads turned towards him and signaled some sort of verbal agreement.

The next few minutes were of the mercenaries collecting their goods and leaving the area. Some of them left through the front door, but others who held objects of greater size hopped on the teleporter and vanished to the other side where your room was. You watched in fascination.

You have never attempted to use the teleporter before. Truthfully, you've never had too much contact with it besides when Engineer was doing a demonstration for an invention to the entire group. Sniper was just done using it to return to the living quarters. You waited for a moment.

When the light returned to the machine. You enthusiastically stepped onto it. Your heart began to race with excitement as the teleporter began to make an array of different noises and started to spin around your feet quickly. The glow of the teleporter grew brighter and brighter, for a mere second, you closed your eyes. 

The heat of the moment came to a halting stop.

A pair of hands shoved you off the device with urgency.

You stumbled back catching your balance just before you could fall onto the floor in front of you. Your eyes traveled back to where the source of the sudden force came from.

"Fräulein! Was ist los mit dir?!" A panicked Medic called out from the opposite side of the teleporter. You didn't know how to respond. Your mouth hung agape staring at the Doctor in a confused manner.

Engineer's head popped back into the office from the Intel room. He looked just as puzzled as you did. "What's all the commotion in here?" He asked the two of you.

Medic brought up a gloved finger and pointed it in your direction. "Backer just attempted to go through the teleporter!" His voice still quivered with alarm.

"Oh, sweet mother of Joseph!" Engineer pranced up to you. He gently took your arm and began to examine it like a concerned parent. His line of sight also kept traveling down to examine your chestal area which took you aback a little."You're not injured, are ya?" Medic's worry seemed to transfer to the man's southern drawl.

You gently pulled your arm away from the hardhat's grip, "I'm fine..." You mumbled with some disturbance. What the heck was going on?

"I was able to push her out of the way before the teleporter could be taken into effect." Medic made sure to include.

This made Engineer wipe his brow with his forearm and let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness." He commented along the side.

"I don't understand. I've seen you and all the other guys use the teleporter all the time! What's the big problem behind me using it?" Your inquiry caused Engie and Medic to exchange a few glances. You couldn't read exactly what they meant, but it left you with a hint of suspicion.

Engie walked to Medic's side so they stood shoulder-to-shoulder facing you. Their faces held the exact same strange look. Your eyes squinted in their direction demanding for answers.

Medic was first to break the silence and began by clearing his throat, "Well, fräulein... The teleporter is a very special tool for our work. You probably know that already, ja?"

You nodded your head with hesitation, but you were still unable to interpret where he was going with the explanation.

"And it provides us a lot of useful opportunities. Like moving bigger items, and even people!" Medic included as well. Though, it seems as if he ran out of ideas. He looked down at Engineer as if he were begging for help.

The western man focused down to the ground and shook his head. It then slowly raised back up so he could look at you through his goggled vision. "Well... it's just that we tell the fellas how to uhh... _step_ on it correctly before using it." His voice was soft as he spoke.

How to step on it correctly? That sounded like a bunch of hooey. It seemed there was only one way to properly stand on the device anyways. You thought back to the agitated exchange between the two men. "You asked me if I was injured. Was the teleporter supposed to hurt me when using it?"

Medic's lips folded in to become pursed. You could also tell that Engineer bit on the side of his cheek and brought a hand to cover his mouth. Both just gazed at you for they did not seem to know how to respond. Medic then approached your side and put an arm on your shoulder. He managed to form a grin, "There's no need to worry about that now! To put it simply, the technology we use here is just extremely _advanced!"_ His pointer finger of his free hand shot up into the air next to him. "Truly, someone of only common knowledge would not be able to comprehend!"

No look of surprise was found on your face. Your brows furrowed as you could feel yourself slumping down. His beating-around-the-bush attitude was nothing new, but it irritated you to no end. His last statement rubbed you the wrong way especially. It was as if they were treating you like a child.

Engineer nodded his head quickly to the doctor's response. "It's just important to know it's not a good idea to use the teleporter, B." He came to your other side and patted your free shoulder. "We ain't tryin' to baby ya; you're just as responsible with your own duties as we are. I hope you know that. We are just looking out for your well-being."

At least Engie was a little more conscious of his word choice. You turned to him and was able to break a smile. You gave the same face to Medic as well. By this point you just wanted the conversation to end. "I understand," you forced out. The words felt heavy leaving your mouth, but you continued, "If there's for whatever a reason why you can't tell me, it must be important." You gave yourself brownie points for sprinkling in a hint of passive-aggressiveness to your statement.

The men seemed to just brush over it and nod. Engie's head dropped down to look at the three pairs of feet that now stood before the teleporter. It hung down for a few moments before he quickly picked it back up. He let go of your shoulder and turned to you so now you stood across from him. He brought a pointed hand up and waved it in the air slightly.

"That reminds me. I have a question for you, Backer."

You tilted your head a little waiting to hear what he had to say. His glance went back down to the teleporter before looking at you once more.

"You remember how I showed y'all those mini teleporters I've been working on? You remember what they look like, right? A small box with the lil' button on the side? Anyways-- well, I noticed as we were packing up to leave Hazyfort-- two of 'em seem to of gone missing. I don't know if I'm going crazy, but I could have _sworn_ I made eight. But we left with six... I'm just wonderin' if you may have happened to of seen them around at any point? Either before we left Austria or around here somewhere?"

Your face held no expression, but you could feel your chest tighten up. You should have expected this; taking something without someone's knowledge that they were _recently_ working on without being questioned? To some degree you did. You took in a small breath, "That's strange... Maybe one of the other mercs took them to toy around with?" You suggested. Good thinking! Trying to divert it away from you was the best option. Just in case you slipped up when being caught in a lie.

"I asked around already. No one knows what happened to them. Usually, my workshop is pretty tidy, too. It ain't often that something goes missing that I'm not able to find within a short time." His glance kept going to the teleporter and back to your eyes. His entire body shifted around quite a bit.

"I'm really sorry, Engie. I wouldn't have any idea where they went." A jolt went rushing up your spine. Huh, how strange... there was a layer of guilt you felt lying, but you pressed on. "I know you were pretty enthusiastic to show them off to us. Maybe you'll get lucky and they'll turn up somewhere?"

His gloved hand rested on one hip as he shook his head off to the side. "I hope so... I think this is just me bein' paranoid, but I just can't help but worry about what would happen if they got into the wrong hands. I guess my biggest spook is if one of those dastardly BLUs got a hold of them."

You could feel a little heat radiate off your forehead. Remain calm. Just-- _remain calm._

A sad laugh escaped from the laborer's toothy grin. "I know, that's just me being a little ridiculous. The worst-case scenario seems to be impossible. Maybe you're right, I'll take a peek around my workshop once more to see if they turn up." He took a step towards the teleporter and got down on one knee. He tapped a side of it which made the glow of the center fade away and for its edges to come to a slow halt. "Well, that's all I had to ask. Y'all did a nice job with the decorating in here."

"Thanks, Engie." You could feel your entire being shake as you grinned down at him.

"Never a problem, 'darlin. Just ask me any time if you want to fix-up a room like this. I'd be happy to help and give you the supplies. Run along now, I'll come and get the teleporter out of your room in a while." He waved his hand for you and Medic to leave. You turned to Doc who looked just as cheerful as ever.

"Let's leave the Engineer to finish up his work. I wanted to check on your ankle once more! Let's see how the healing is going!" His head kept nodding at you in smaller and more repetitive mannerisms. It made you a little ill at ease.

"Yeah, sure... Let's do that..." Your voice held an unsettled tone. Both of you began to exit the office. Though, you couldn't help but turn your head back to face the engineer. He still kept knelt in front of the teleporter. His body remained rigid.

Waves of stress and delinquency since he brought up the mini teleporters kept hitting you. Was this enough to question and re-evaluate your practices of morality? You didn't know. It was painful to think about at the moment. There was only one reason why you were forced to turn away from the kind-hearted man; you turned the corner of the doorframe so he was no longer in sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**
> 
> **Alles gut-** All is good [German]
> 
> **Cobber-** Slang for a good friend [Australian]
> 
> **Mademoiselle-** Miss (feminine) [French]
> 
> **Fräulein-** Young lady (feminine) [German]
> 
> **Was ist los mit dir?!-** What's wrong with you?! [German]


	13. Makeshift Mailroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've got mail! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All translations are at the end of the chapter!
> 
> Also!!! HUGE shoutout to big_scrunch for going in and beta-reading the chapter! I cannot thank you enough for going through the craziness that is my writing. Go check her work out! She's got a fantastic story she's working on as well <3 
> 
> Feel free to join our TF2 Writing Community Discord: https://discord.gg/bc2psNy

The check-up in the med bay took longer than expected. Normally, you would be in and out within five to ten minutes max. This time it seemed as if Medic took things more leisurely than usual. Maybe he was concerned over any potential injury from the teleporter stunt. In the end, he confirmed everything remained on track. 

You retreated to your room. Engie must have cleaned up while you were with Medic because the teleporter was no longer on the floor. You flopped onto the bed and stretched your arms.

You studied the grooves in the ceiling's drywall as your chest slowly rised and fell. It was nice to have a moment to collect your thoughts. Engie and Medic's strange behavior was on your mind. Hearing an imaginative voice similar to Engineer's, he spoke to you.

_"... I don't know if I'm going crazy, but I could have sworn I made eight. But we left with six... I'm just wonderin' if you may have happened to of seen them around at any point...?"_

... it seemed to grow more aggrivated.

_"... I just can't help but worry about what would happen if they got into the wrong hands. I guess my biggest spook is if one of those dastardly BLUs got a hold of them..."_

_... Why did you give it to him, Backer?_

_You're assigned to be a RED for a reason! Why did you give it to him??_

_What are ya, some kinda back-stabbin' traitor?!_

Panicked, you rubbed your temples in a circular motion. "I'm not a traitor..." you whispered. He didn't listen.

_Do you not care about our team?_

_Answer me, Backer! Why would you give it to an enemy Spy!?_

Your once steady heartbeat grew faster. Lord, just make it stop!

The southern accent had vanished. Now, a voice deeper within surfaced.

_How inconsiderate can you get?_

_They ought to throw **you** into the furnace!_

_You're a backstabber! A liar! And a TRAITOR!_

"I SAID I'M NOT A TRAITOR!"

You shot up from the bed. There was no doubt that you spoke out loud, but that was the least of your worries. The important thing was collecting yourself.

Beads of sweat formed as you opened your eyes.

The door remained on its hinges, the floor was wooden like always, and the drawers of the nightstand were still shut. Everything being normal left you relieved; this was always a good exercise to know that everything was okay. You cooled down as the shaky sensation faded, leaving your lips dry and hands clammy.

You wiped the sweat from your palms with the thin blanket. What on earth was going on? Oddly, it felt like those thoughts weren't your own. Guilt crushed you like a pile of bricks.

God, words couldn't describe how much that sucked.

Covering your eyes, you slowly flopped back down with a sigh. There you were again. You turned to your nightstand and gazed at the card-style alarm clock. It wasn't even four in the afternoon yet...

Then you looked at your wardrobe. Knowing what was inside, a lump in your throat formed.

Slowly, you approached its wooden doors. You weren't going to sit around and have another episode looking at a wooden box. Nope, not happening.

You opened it. Under one of your shirts peaked the metal box. _That damn little box._  
Scooping it up, you studied it. Why should you go through all this stress just over a stupid teleporter? It's not that big of a deal... right?

Your grip tightened.

... Maybe you should just destroy it.

It wouldn't expose Spy or yourself. Engie could just accept the fact that it was left behind in Austria and everyone can move on.

You turned to go back to your bed, already planning the device's demise. It shouldn't be hard. You've got _plenty_ of tools that could do the job.

That was until a solid _thud_ hit the ground.

In front of the wardrobe laid one of your holsters, but the grip of the gun didn't look like any of yours.

Setting the teleporter to the side, you picked up the holster. Your eyes widened upon removing the weapon.

It was Spy's revolver.

How did it end up here? You stopped keeping the mercs' weapons once you made a truce with the BLU Spy. Plus, you already owned a firearm. Sudden realization hit you like a freight train:

_"Do you have a weapon?"_

_"No! They pushed it away from me when I was on the balcony!"_

_...The revolver that once stuck up in his hand now sat in yours..._

**You forgot to give it back.**

You groaned along with a facepalm. Of course, it was only NOW that you rediscovered it. Your eyes hopped between the two objects: the revolver and the mini teleporter, fingers tapping around the gun's handle. With a grimace, you tucked them in a baggy part of your uniform and made your way to your office.

*******

You plopped the items on the wooden desk.

At the room's large shelves, you rummaged within the bins. You discovered a fancy-looking ballpoint pen and notepad.

Placing the writing materials off to the side your focus was on the teleporter. You pressed the button and watched it unfold to life sluggishly, leaving you to wait. Tapping your foot impatiently, you silently prayed that his was on, too.

Thoughts swarmed your mind as the teleporter finished constructing. Weight pressed on your throat as you quietly waited. For a while, the teleporter sat idle. For each moment that passed your heart sank deeper. You melted in your chair, brows furrowed with worry.

This was to be expected, but you couldn't help but feel disappointed. Having to wait delayed your plans of destroying the teleporter. The longer you waited, the guiltier you felt.

Ten minutes passed, and you kept yourself entertained by taking the pen and drawing random little patterns on a piece of paper. You would rip them out, crump them up, and try to tossing them into a wastebasket across the room (only to miss more times than you would admit). While fiddling around with your pen trying to balance it on furrowed lips, a strange humming noise filled the room. You lost your concentration and dropped the pen on the floor, focusing on the device.

The teleporter began to spin.

Scrambling to retrieve your pen, you shot up in your seat and had a piece of paper ready. Your blood was pumping. A bright red glow from the teleporter became present. He was trying to communicate with you. You stared at your paper dumbstruck. What should you say? Should you write it like a letter? No, that would take too long and is overly formal. You tapped the end of the pen against the paper in thought, but you finally made up your mind.

You began to write:

Folding the paper in half, you placed it on the teleporter. It took a few bit, but a 'whirring' noise grew louder and louder. The bright light in the center expanded. In an instant, the paper was nowhere to be seen. Now you played the waiting game.

It only took about a minute or two before the teleporter's hum returned. A flash of light flickered for only a split second before the notepad paper sat in the center. The only thing different was the way it was folded. You opened it.

His handwriting was so graceful and clean. You couldn't help but sit there captivated by each stroke. It even made you a little bit insecure about your own. ... Well, there wasn't much that you could do about that. You began to write once more:

Sending it through, you received a response in only a few minutes.

Even though he said he understood, you couldn't help but have a hint of shame overcome you. But a smile soon spread across your face as you reread the last part a few times. He kept the teleporter on to wait to hear from you? That was kind of adorable. You wrote back quickly.

This time around, it took a little longer than normal for a response. You sat and waited giddily.

About five minutes passed before something came through:

Your face flared up upon finishing the note. You forward at seemingly nothing in disbelief, pressing the piece of paper to your chest. Were you getting flustered by some handwriting?

Yes, yes you were.

You couldn't help but giggle. Enthusiastically, you placed the paper back down on the table and began to develop a response. With each given letter, you tried your absolute damnedest to craft your best penmanship.

For quite some time Spy and yourself exchanged notes. When the paper ran out of space, either you or Spy would include another sheet. Though each old piece of paper was held together by a paperclip (that Spy supplied). On the side when he first included it, he wrote to keep all the papers together and either burn, shred, or keep them in a secret place where nobody would find them. That was a smart idea. You didn't want to raise questions from any of the guys if they were to discover them in the trash.

You glanced over at the clock that hung above the door. Holy crap! Two hours have passed already? It was already almost six, which is usually when Engie started calling everyone to dinner. ... Maybe it was time for you to wrap things up. You didn't want anybody to ask where you've been for the last few hours-- if they haven't already noticed that you were gone.

While starting to pack everything up to get ready to leave, you gasped at the item still on the table.

You completely forgot to give him the gun back!

Shaking your head you picked it up and brought it close. Ripping another yellow sheet from the notepad you added a note explaining how you forgot you had it after the lounge mishap. You folded the piece of paper, took a piece of tape, and sent the items through.

Finally, you began to put everything away and reorganize your desk. You kept questioning whether to leave the teleporter here or in your room.

... Perhaps it was smarter to keep it with you... just in case.

You couldn't help but be in _way_ better spirits. Writing with Spy washed away your fears. Plus, look at how time flew by!

Giving him the teleporter wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Tinkering with the teleporter to shut down, something started to materialize on the platform. You waited for it to come through. It was a white box. On top was another folded piece of paper fastened to it. Also, underneath it was the papers the two of you were writing on. Before you were going to tear through the container, you took the note and read it.

A grin spread across your face as you eyed the box. Spy must have shut off his teleporter, for its red glow was no longer present. Placing the note and extra papers to the side, you grabbed for the box. The top was easy to open, so you took hold of the little flap to reveal the item inside.

It was a wooden Newton's cradle!

You've been wanting one of these for a while. They were released about four years ago, but you never got around to buying one.

Cheerfully, you placed the desk toy on the table. You raised one marble. Letting it swing down, you listened to the rhythmical bounce of the marbles clacking one another. You followed as each marble flew up to take place of the height of the ball on the other side.

You felt like a child again. Being so caught up in trying to do different ball tricks made you completely forget about getting back to the living quarters. If you could, you would sit there forever and watch the beauty of Newton's laws. Just like how you heard them constantly advertise over the radio and television.

To close for the evening, you were going to do one final trick. You lifted the ball on the far left back so it was away from the others. With your free hand, you began to swing the other four marbles into motion. The group swung about two or three times in harmony.

Then, with a little bit of force, you released the remaining marble. The ball on the opposite end flew up, almost at level with the cradle's structure. That's when the unthinkable happened.

The ball swung up a few times, then in an instant, you saw the marble travel a lot further than it was supposed to. Darting back to the cradle... Oh no! One of the marbles became loose from the string. The sound of a tiny piece of steel clattered on the ground and jumped away.

"Shoot— no!" You hissed. The marble was bouncing towards the shelves that lined the wall. Springing from your seat, you chased the metal down as if a cat was pursuing a mouse. Of course, keeping in mind the state of your foot.

The marble tapped against one of the shelves. You knelt down and picked up the ball.

With a huff, you observed the marble's top. A small indent was engraved where the string was supposed to go. It stunk that it was already a flimsy model, but it wasn't Spy's fault. You were being a little rough. There was probably a way to fix it, right?

You were shifting to stand up... but froze.

Something strange caught your eye.

An odd figure was being reflected onto the marble's surface. The coloring is what grabbed your attention. It had a golden flare; it almost like it was glowing.

Compared to the other items around it, it stuck out like a sore thumb. It sat on the bottom shelf. Now on all fours, you searched the section to find an item to match what you saw. 

Paper clutter and dust bunnies sat around a box. Just out of the corner of the cardboard poked out the same strange object. A skinny rectangular surface faced you. The same golden tint reflected what little light the deep shelf absorbed.

"What the hell is that?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>   
> **Translations:**  
>   
>  **Chérie-** dear (feminine) [French]
> 
>  **Ça t'a fait mal quand tu es tombée du ciel?-** Did it hurt when you fell from heaven? [French] 
> 
> **Mon amie-** my friend (feminine) [French]
> 
> Revisions: 01/20/2021 ;)


	14. So, It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cha-ching...? :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All translations are at the end of the chapter!
> 
> I'd like to give a gigantic thanks to imlonelyalready for beta-reading this chapter for me!! If you haven't already, go check out her Sniper x Reader she's working on called [Heatwave](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24692455/chapters/59676628), and her Engineer x Reader oneshot [Coldfront Cookies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25057462)!
> 
> I'd also like to thank Gretschdoll for providing me some templates for the notes! It adds a little more variety to the story!! :)  
> Hey! Have I mentioned that Gretsch along with a few other AO3 creators have been working on a ~~TF2 PULP MAGAZINE~~?? It's true! Once it's posted you can check it out [here](https://mercenarytales.tumblr.com/)! Writers like imlonelyalready, [Jack of all Trades's Writer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24515302/chapters/59184067), myself, and many more have contributed to it! Feel free to contact Gretsch if you'd like any TF2 fanart submitted along with its release!  
> [Gretsch's Tumblr](https://unctuoustf2.tumblr.com/)  
> [Promo Comics](https://mercenarytales.tumblr.com/post/623462974719410176/mercenary-tales-coming-soon-just-setting-up-the)

You did not grab the object right away. Still hunched over, you allowed the silence to weigh down on your shoulders. Various thoughts popped in and out of your head as you kept re-analyzing the strange golden object. Finally, you reached into the depths of the shelf to pull out the box that it sat in.

It required moving some of the other various items that were piled on top of its bar shape. You grabbed the object only to be surprised at how heavy it was. It now rested in your palms, and its surface mirrored back a distorted figure of your face.

A dash of astonishment came across you while gazing down at the bar. “Is this some type of gold…?” You mumbled to yourself. The tips of your fingers grazed on its bottom, but something rigid and bumpy replaced the smooth slick feeling you’ve observed so far.

Slowly, you flipped to reveal its bottom. Writing was elegantly engraved into it. Though, it seems that you were holding it upside down. You corrected the quick error. The typography was extremely curly and decorated, so it took a few scans of the word before you could comprehend what it read. Your body went stiff.

**It was your last name.**

Over and over, you kept rereading the fancy lettering. It left you frightened, but somewhat excited as well. What does this mean? This was an odd discovery to unearth. It only made sense to leave you in a mixed emotion of joy and fear.

Perhaps you were a few hundred dollars richer? It seemed like a fairly heavy ingot. Or it was just a crazy coincidence that it had your surname? Maybe your last name was more common than you thought. Sure, you’ve seen golden bars in the movies, but nothing ever like this in real life.

After putting the remaining junk on the shelf you rose to your feet. Holding the bar close to your body, you collected what items that still sat on the desk from writing. With one more glance at the clock (it was far later than you wished it was), you juggled your things back to your room.

That night at dinner you enthusiastically explained your discovery with your team. Your constant use of the term “gold” seemed to puzzle them. There were times that you noticed that some of the men would exchange various looks with one another. The only one who seemed just as energized about your discovery was Scout. But only out of jealousy because _you_ found a “fancy-schmancy metal”.

The golden bar didn’t leave your mind all meal. What made you the most excited was revealing your treasure to Spy at some point. He seems like the type of person to know what to do with valuables like that. So maybe he could give you some tips on how to cash it out once you get the chance.

Conversations passed around the dinner table returned to normal soon after. Every now and then you would pick up your head to scan the dining room. On multiple occasions you caught Sniper giving you a rather odd look. Once your eyes would settle on him, he would slowly turn his head back down towards his plate or to one of the mercenaries next to him. It was quite peculiar, as it was never brought to your attention that the bushman has looked at you like that in the past.

Once the meal ended and everything was almost cleaned up, you were about to head to your room for the evening. You stood at the sink drying the last few dishes when you felt a few gentle taps on your shoulder.

It turned out to be Sniper.

He took a few steps back to give some distance between you, the sink, and himself.

“Oh, hey ‘Snipe! What’s up?” You greeted with a friendly smile.

“Heya, Back-- ya know the gold bar thing you were talkin’ about at the table?” His voice spoke in his common deep mumble. If it weren’t only the two of you in the kitchen, you probably wouldn’t have heard what he had said.

“Yeah, what about it?”

The man brought his hand to the back of his neck as his eyes glazed over the room. He spoke in an even quieter tone now, “Can… Can I take a look at it? I promise I won’t steal it from ya... ‘Just curious is all.”

Your cheerfulness still shined, “Of course, it’s in my room. You can come and check it out if you want.”

Sniper shook his head in response. He took a step closer, probably so you could hear him a bit more clearly, “Bring it to my van. There’s something I might wanna show ya.”

Something in your brain clicked and a sudden boost of energy shot through your veins. Mystery was lingering right in front of you, and you wanted to take the bait. Eagerly, you nodded your head, “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Without further conversation, Sniper spun on his heel and walked out of the room. You felt yourself pick up the pace of putting the last of the silverware away and headed to your room to get the ingot. With quick speed, you jogged towards his van.

The only exception the Administrator had made in regards to going out of the facility after hours for the mercs was the front (as opposed to the back where most of the fighting and cleaning happens). Here is where Engie’s workshop garage doors opened up to, and just a few yards ahead sat Sniper’s van. There was a room for the huntsman within the building, but he always insisted on being put separate from the rest of the group. He valued his alone time.

A small light peaked through the closed shutters; he must already be inside. After lightly knocking on the door, you waited while rocking on the balls of your feet. It took a moment, but eventually, Sniper opened the door and ushered you in to take a seat.

You retreated to the little table that sat in the corner of the cramped space. Sniper placed a warm mug of… something... down on the table before sitting across from you. His hands were folded as they supported his chin, he eyed your hands which covered the bar that sat in your lap.

“Let’s take a look at it now, yeah?” He questioned. The hum in his voice didn’t show any sign of rudeness, he was just as much on the edge of his seat as you were to figure out what this thing was.

Slowly, you lifted the golden object to present to him. The shine of it reflected onto the vehicle’s rooftop when revealed under the light. Sniper’s mouth hung agape slightly. He did not take it right away from your hands; his awe left him immobile for a few moments.

“Where did ya find this again?” His hand finally reached for the bar, taking it out of your grasp tenderly.

“I was in my office putting a few things away before dinner. It was sitting in a box on the bottom shelf.” Bravely, you decided to take a sip of the mysterious liquid in the mug to clear your throat. To your relief, it was only green tea.

Sniper must have felt the ridges on the bottom because he flipped it over to reveal the text in the light. It took him some time to scan over the word as you both sat in silence. His eyes squinted before raising back up to look at you. “Isn’t this your last name?”

“Yeah! It’s weird, isn’t it? Maybe my last name is more common than I thought? Still, I wouldn’t understand why it’s on there.” There was another pause as he looked at you blankly not knowing how to respond. You let out a small sigh, “I just don’t get it, why would anybody have a piece of gold with my name on it just _laying_ around?”

Pushing his aviators up with his hand, Sniper rubbed his eyes sleepily. “I don’t think that’s gold, sheila.”

You raised a brow, “What is it then?” From what knowledge you had about gold, most of the traits of the bar seemed accurate in your book.

He placed the bar on the table and rose from his seat. Near the front entrance of the van, there was a small knob that poked out of the wall. He grabbed onto and slid to open a wide cupboard. A long black case was held between the space. Sniper took one of the ends of the case and brought the entirety of the container down onto the van’s floor. Unlocking the latches of the case, he opened to reveal a bright golden reflection, only this one was much, much larger than the one your ingot mirrored.

What looked like a sniper rifle made out of a golden material now sat on the table. Sniper picked up the bar and placed it side-by-side with the long barrel of the gun. “See? It’s the exact same material.” He waved his hand down at the two items.

You were left in awe. It was difficult for you to come up with a response, but finally, you managed to croak out, “What is it?”

“This here is what they call _Australium._ Have ya ever heard of it before?”

You shook your head. “It doesn’t even sound real.”

“That seems to be the way _they_ wanna keep it, bloody mongrels,” His hand pointed down at the ingot, “Your bar looks a lot different from normal blocks of Australium I’ve ever seen. If it weren’t for the shine, your last name, an’ placin’ it next to my weapon I’d mistake it for gold, too.”

“What does a normal block of Australium look like?” You leaned in to look at the bar once again.

“Normally they’d have some bogan fighting a ‘roo on the top. Yours seems to be missing that.”

“Huh? Who’s fighting a what?”

“It’s not important right now-- what is is that you’ve got a ‘real high valuable item on ya. Be careful who ya show it off to. People are real bloody life-sucking greed pots nowadays. I’d even suggest keepin’ it as much of a secret from the other blokes as much as possible.” Sniper grabbed onto the rifle and carefully placed it back into its box.

“I don’t mean to sound rude when I say this, but then why are you helping me? Wouldn’t that mean you would want to take it too?” You cocked an eyebrow at the man. He had just finished putting away the case and sat back down.

“Ya don’t have to worry about me, it seems like I couldn’t get away from this bloody dosh even if I tried…” A grumble followed after his words.

“What makes this stuff so valuable? I was never told about something like this growing up. Is it just super rare?” You slid the bar closer to your side of the table, but your attention never left Sniper. He sat in his thoughts for a few moments.

“... There isn’t much more I can tell ya… Just know to watch your back. We can’t have anything nice around here it seems. I wouldn’t know if they’d give ya the fair suck of the sav and leave yer stuff alone. It doesn't matter if it has your last name on it or not.”

He almost sounded unsure of his choice of words. His line of view refused to look in your direction now as well. All his concentration was on his hands that were once mindlessly tapping against the table’s surface. Once he finished talking there was more silence held amongst the two of you.

To alleviate the awkwardness you took one final sip from your mug and stood up. “Well, thanks for the insight... And tea. I’ll try to remember what you told me and keep it safe.” You lifted the ingot to show him one final time with a weak smile. Sniper bobbed his head.

“Yep. G’night Back-uh. See ya in the morning.”

You quickly waved and departed from the RV. Before entering back into the compounds of the facility, you faced out into the open desert and loose gravel road that was paved nearby. The night sky had settled in on the rocky horizon, and only the distance sounds of chirping crickets filled the air.

It was a moment of concentration for you. Sniper’s advice played back in your head. This gold…

No...

This _Australium_ bar seems to be important. At least important enough to draw a rather reserved person like Sniper’s attention. Tucking it tight between your arm, you made your way back to your room.

Upon arriving you immediately hopped onto your bed. You couldn’t help but flip the ingot over to reveal where your name was engraved. It was surreal, but mesmerizing all the while. After some time you broke eye contact with it and looked back over to the mini teleporter that sat on your dresser across the room.

Since you already told Spy that you were going to be done writing for the night, you were hesitant about your next action:

Should you turn it back on to write to him again tonight?

This newfound material made you antsy to show off to him. Perhaps he might know a thing or two about Australium.

An idea popped into your head.

You rummaged through your room until you eventually found an old notebook and a pen. You began to write,

The teleporter bloomed itself to life in all its mechanical glory. You waited for some time, but no glow came from the box. First, you placed the note down on the platform of the teleporter. Then, taking the Australium block from your bed, you placed the bar on top to work as a paperweight.

At some point, he was bound to turn it back on. So what if you just left something on the teleporter to send when it’s activated next? It was at least worth a shot. Once satisfied with your idea, you got yourself situated for the evening. You tried to sit yourself down and read from Les Misérables, but you found that it just wasn’t nearly as enjoyable without Spy around. So instead, you ended up picking up another book you packed and reading that until you fell asleep.

*******

That entire night left you tossing and turning. It was like how a little kid is waiting for Santa Claus to arrive on Christmas day; you were desperate to find potential answers in the morning. Your dreams kept gnawing at what the metal might be, all to only leave you stranded in the fog of mystery it evokes.

The alarm clock on your bedside began to ring its cry. Immediately, you shot up from your bed and slammed down a hand to silence it. Your first instinct was to glance in the direction where the teleporter sat. Still, no light came from the machine, but you did notice something different about the Australium’s position.

A piece of paper sat _on top_ of the bar.

You hopped out of bed and immediately observed the changes made. The note was now in your hands as you read,

His note made you smile. It was pretty comedic, as you began to notice he spoke just as formally as he wrote. You let a small snicker escape your lips.

Observing the note once again, a sudden form of shock overcame you. There was a Teufort library? You wanted to kick yourself for not knowing earlier, or at least asking. Nonetheless, it was an exciting piece of news to discover.

Speaking of asking, maybe he was right. There’s bound to be some kind of book about Australium. Who’s better to ask about resources to send to base other than Miss Pauling? She gave you that as an offer to your team to make fortress life a little more bearable. It was the beginning of a new week, so the team had to have a video briefing before any missions with her anyways.

You could hear loud footsteps marching down the hall. It was Soldier, you already knew that as a fact. He was preparing to wake everyone up in his militia-like manner. Immediately, you plucked the ingot and teleporter off the stand, shoved it into your wardrobe, and closed the doors. The sound of rampant knocking and fiddling of your locked doorknob signified it was another day’s worth of missions.

*******

“That should be all. Good luck today, guys.” Pauling concluded by giving a smile to the group. The men who were all once congregated around the monitor in your office dispersed while giving their own cheer or howl as a farewell. You sat patiently as each man filed out of the room. Once everyone left and the door was closed behind them you spoke up,

“Hey, Miss Pauling?”

“Oh, you’re still here Backer! What’s up?”

“I had a question regarding getting something sent here to the base.”

“Sure thing! What is it you’re wanting?” Her voice seemed interested, but she wasn’t looking at you on her screen. From her side, she was scurrying around the room trying to collect some papers to put into a briefcase.

“I was interested in renting a book from the library. Is it possible to get anything about Australium?”

She went completely still. Not one muscle moved out of position from the last action she was about to take. Her head slowly began to turn in the direction of the camera. A look of disbelief rested on her face.

“Australium…?” She repeated back.

“Yeah! I just found out about it yesterday. I asked around to some of the other guys and they don’t really seem to know much about it. So I thought it would be interesting to learn more.” You grinned at the purple woman. She visibly seemed to get more uncomfortable by the second.

“Uhh… I…” She trailed off. Her eyes returned to the room around her, “I… Don’t think the local library carries any books about the thing you’re wanting.”

“Are you sure? Have you tried to get a book about it before too?”

Silence.

“Maybe books have been added since last time you looked! Could we at least check, please?”

Even more silence.

“... Miss Pauling?”

“I gotta get going, Backer. I’ll check up on you guys later.” With that, the monitor flipped off to a black screen. You were just left to sit there completely bewildered.

That… was strangely out of character for Miss Pauling. It was like she wasn’t even willing to _try_ and look it up for you. An unsettling pit sat in your stomach. Bringing a finger up to the side of the monitor, you switched it so it would then show some of the cameras that hung around the facility and outside. The bridge between the two buildings sat dead quiet. It was only a matter of time until whatever chaos would ensue in that exact place.

Walking over to the bookshelf, you picked up your large red megaphone. You took a second to tighten the armband with the Backer symbol on it. After you rearranged your appearance as to how you wanted to present yourself, you opened the back door hidden on the side of the wall to give the team their pep talk.

Whatever the day brought…

_“Mission begins in ten minutes.”_

… you hoped it would go by quickly.

There was a lot you needed to tell Spy.

*******

The missions given by the Administrator went by rather fast. Your team was crowned victorious for all three objectives fought. For the large mess made that needed to be cleaned after, the boys managed to pull off an almost flawless performance. The thought couldn’t help but make you laugh, the BLU team must have had an off day. It was even more hilarious to think about how Spy reacted to their defeat.

It wasn’t even eight in the evening before you finished cleaning (along with Scout’s help-- if it was even considered helping), ate dinner, and were getting ready to settle down. With glee, you went back over to your wardrobe and pulled out the teleporter. You set it on your nightstand and began to come up with a note for your blue friend.

It took some time, but eventually the whizzing and glows of the teleporter became known. Spy had his on as well. Now, you were able to exchange notes in real-time and give him some information as to what was going on. You wrote to him first greeting him, and he responded with a few personal questions like how your day was and such.

The small talk was nice for an introduction, but now you wanted to get down to business. You put aside a note that he just sent as a reply. Taking out a new piece of paper, you debriefed the situation,

Something came through a few minutes later.

You felt shaky by this point. Whether it be from frustration or anxiousness, it still made you think back to all the strange occurrences that have happened within the last few days. As you wrote your response, you found it more and more difficult to maintain your best handwriting. After a few minutes of painstaking concentration, you sent your response to him.

You could feel your heart race thinking back. The mini-teleporters, the odd behavior from Medic and Engie, Sniper’s strange interest in your Australium but apparently not knowing much about it, and Miss Pauling's sudden panic. It was taking Spy a long time to get back to you. Once an answer arrived all that sat on the teleporter’s platform was a tiny slip of paper.

“What…?” You mumbled out loud while raising a brow. You looked at your alarm clock. It read 8:21 p.m.

Now your curiosity was starting to boil over. It was such an odd and out of the blue question to ask. Your eyes never left the teleporter since you sent the paper. In the shortest amount of time ever this evening, another small slip of paper appeared.

Without even a second thought, you shot up from your bed and quickly began to put on your uniform. Then it dawned on you; what if someone were to come in and check on you?

Your fingers snapped when you came up with something.

At your bedside, you took a pillow and flipped it on its side vertically. The blankets were then tucked up as high as they could go, and you took a step back to look at your masterpiece. Oh yeah, it looks like you were sleeping alright.

Turning off the teleporter and the lights in your room, you made sure that everything else seemed to be in place. Once satisfied you tip-toed to the door (without trying to put too much weight on your ankle). With the same delicacy, you opened and shut it behind you.

Dusk was still on the horizon in the desert of the Badlands.

And it was calling your name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> **  
> Translations:  
> **  
>  **Bogan-** An uncouth/unsophisticated person [Australian]
> 
>  **Dosh-** Money/High valuables [Australian]
> 
>  **The fair suck of the sav-** A reasonable opportunity to participate is given [Australian]
> 
>  **Bonne journée-** Have a good day [French]
> 
>  **Ma chérie-** My dear (feminine) [French]


	15. Bookworm's Tag Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> did somebody say _authorized individual?_ :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All translations are at the end of the chapter!
> 
> Huge thankies to dupusdiingus for beta-reading this chapter for me! She's also working on a Spy/Reader fanfic called [Ma Fleur Rouge](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25308664/chapters/61359955)! Make sure to check it out! hehe <3

The sun-baked rock and sand left a satisfying crunch each step you took. You were now at the front of the building and your tracks became mute. Eagerly, you eyed the exit. Multiple small sentries sat on the boulders that towered up to form an arch towards the road’s opening. Sniper’s RV was stationed in its usual spot. There was a sudden dryness that overcame your throat.

_Was this really a good idea?_

No, of course it wasn’t.

For a few moments, you stood there in a half-daze staring at the scene in front of you. After snapping out of it you then eyed the van. Nobody sat in the front seats, nor could you tell if the lights were on since it was still light out. You bit the inside of your cheek and took a deep breath. Finally, crouching down a little, you began to inch towards the nearest wall of rock.

You took extra precaution to make sure your steps were quiet; just in case Sniper or any of the other mercenaries happened to be out. The closer you got to the exit almost meant you were getting closer to the RV. Before moving by you paused to take one last listen to your surroundings.

No noise.

A shudder shot through you while exhaling quietly; you must have been holding your breath. It was then decided that you were going to pick up the pace while still trying to be as sneaky as possible. Every few feet sparked more hope in you.

At the narrow mouth of the entrance, you sprinted those final yards. You rounded the corner so you were out of sight from the rest of the base. Once in the clear, you took a moment to observe the landscape.

It was all desert (as to be expected). Part of the sun’s rim sat on the skyline. The light always seemed to shine brighter in those few hours before it got dark. What was left of the long road stretched out both directions for quite some distance, long enough until it was out of your visual perception.

Spy said to just start walking down the road, but you were unsure which way to go. Your head kept bobbing left to right until you decided to keep following along the road where you rounded the exit. You couldn’t help but look behind you every few steps.

The further you walked, the more anxious you became. Surely a few minutes have passed, and the last time you turned around the opening of the base was no longer in sight. It was then when you finally decided to stop pressing forward and stand off to the side.

You weren’t paying attention to the time, but finally, you lifted your arm to reveal your wristwatch.

8:29 p.m.

Forget it, you were going to head back.

You could just write to him apologizing and come up with an excuse as to why you couldn’t make it. A little lie wouldn’t hurt.

… But then there was a low rumble that echoed from the opposite way you came.

The sound seemed to grow closer and closer in each passing second. You threw your head in its direction and clutched onto the sleeve of your shirt. An odd figure was then in sight.

A sports car with a dark blue paint job cruised down the road. As it approached you it began to progressively roll to a stop. The windows of the vehicle were tinted, so you weren’t able to see through them. You gawked at your reflection.

The passenger window of the car slowly began to roll down. Spy sat in the driver’s seat looking at you with a smile. His eyes were covered with a pair of sunglasses. Your look of surprise lifted into a grin immediately as you saw him.

“There isn’t much time to waste, hop in.” His tone was welcoming, and it was only now when you realized how much you truly missed his voice.

You did as he said and got into the car. The interior of the vehicle blew you away. Your lack of words and the astounded expression made Spy chuckle,

“You look impressed.”

“... Oh! Yeah, sorry, it’s just--” You stopped for a brief moment to look around the car one more time. “It’s just that I’ve never been in a car this nice before.”

“Then it is an honor for this one to be your first.” The car began to accelerate forward. The rev of the engine was quite loud, but you tried to ignore the noise. You looked back at your friend. He still held his charming smile.

“Where did you get this car? Where are you keeping it?” Curiosity overcame you again.

“I bought it a few months ago. I can keep it in a storage garage near our base.”

“I was just wondering because of the whole ‘not leaving the base’ rule, y’know? I didn’t think you were allowed to buy--let alone access--nice cars or other vehicles while still under contract.” You tried to laugh a little as you spoke. The jitters of getting further and further from the base were starting to get to you.

“There is no need to explain yourself, mon amie. I understand,” The setting sun’s blazing color seeped through the dark panes. “If you are new to the contract, around one or two years, then yes you are unable to purchase such items. It is a… loyalty perk of sorts. More than likely put in place to prevent newly hired individuals from being paid then fleeing.”

“That makes sense, I guess. I’m just surprised you were even able to sneak this car out. Didn’t anybody notice or hear you leaving?”

“I have my secrets.” He lifted his shades so his eyes were visible and gave you a small wink.

Your face grew warm. You brought a hand up to your cheek to feel the burn and looked down at it as if it would rub off. Something as small as that… Why were you getting so flustered?

He placed his shades back down onto his eyes and stared out to the stretch of road. You tapped your fingers together in silence for a short while. Finally, you decided to speak up again, “Where exactly are we going?”

The question just dawned on you. Now that you thought about it, you felt like kicking yourself for not asking sooner. It was the heat of the moment when he told you to leave the base, and you didn’t want to miss out on an opportunity.

“To a place that may hold answers for you after all; the Teufort Public Library.”

“Isn’t that almost an hour away? It’s getting late, wouldn’t the library be closed?”

“I made sure to check for us. Teufort’s library hours extend until ten o’clock. We should have plenty of time to find what you need.”

“.... So you think Miss Pauling was being dishonest, too?” You slumped into the seat a little.

“I do not think that it was her being dishonest. Rather, I believe that she is just suppressing as much information as she can. With whatever reasoning there is behind it.”

“Right,” You nodded your head in agreement.

“Since you are here it should be a lot easier for you to explain; how did you find this Australium again?”

You gave him the full story. The Newton’s Cradle, talking with Sniper, your interaction with Miss Pauling, and up until he wrote to you that night. The primary part you left out was the engraving of your last name. Once you finished your explanation Spy took a moment to take in all the information.

“I see… Something interesting was brought to my attention when you sent me the Australium bar. … You noticed the word at the bottom, did you not?”

“Yeah, the one in that beautiful curly font?” You played along with his curiosity.

“That word…”

He then said it.

He said your last name.

Not only did he just _say_ it, but he said it in a way that sounded comforting to your ears.

For whatever reason it made you feel breathless. Something strange you were not anticipating, but it left you in a hypnotic state, leaving you to stare at him in shock.

“... It’s something I have never seen on Australium before,” Spy turned his head quickly to meet the look you gave him. He seemed surprised, “Backer? Is everything alright?”

Immediately you snapped yourself out of it. A weight of embarrassment overcame you, “Huh? Wait-- yeah! Sorry, uhm… I think it’s strange, too. It makes me wonder what it means.”

“You seem more off-beat than normal today.”

“There’s... just been a lot to think about recently, that’s all.”

The rest of the ride continued with more conversation on the Australium bar. Though it then quickly transitioned into a discussion about the newspaper that was written about the both of you in Austria. Time must have flown by quickly since you were already parked in front of the town’s familiar string of buildings.

When the car came to a stop Spy got out almost immediately. You raised a brow but suddenly turned to see his smiling face opening your car door. He offered you a hand, which you took gratefully.

To your surprise, the library was quite large! Based on how many windows there were it seemed to be more than one floor. You felt yourself grow excited; you couldn’t remember the last time you were able to go into a library since working with RED. Spy picked up on your pep.

“I take you enjoy going to the library, non?”

“Of course! I know we’re here just to get something in specific, but it’s still nice to be in that atmosphere again.”

“That should have been an obvious answer. My apologies, I should have known that already-- given that you enjoy reading already... Perhaps…” One of his hands slipped around your waist. His grasp was elegant but still strong.

You stiffened up, but you didn’t resist. It was just very unexpected. He brought you closer to him, “... If we can find what we are looking for right away, we can stay a little bit longer. Just for you, Petit Sucre rose.”

His soft voice lingered next to your ear. Each word left a delicate warmth on your concha. It was difficult for you to not begin spazzing out.

“Okay--” You managed to squeak out.

He held as you both walked to the entrance. The glass door slowly swung open, and you were left to stare in awe. Not only was the outside of the library large, but the inside as well. There were old wooden shelves that easily stood over seven feet tall, and were packed to the brim with books with all different kinds of spines. Both yours and Spy’s shoes echoed against the tile and traveled to the ceiling.

Now standing in the center of the main floor, both of you faced the large desk with a small old lady on the other side. From the looks of it, she was on the verge of dozing off to sleep, she hasn’t even picked her head up to acknowledge that you both were standing there. Spy began to scan the area and gave your side a small press to get your attention. “This way,”

He ushered you towards the back portion of the library. The section that Spy decided to stop at seemed to stretch on for what felt like an eternity. You turned your head up towards him, “This is the nonfiction section, right?” You asked.

“Yes, it should be.”

“Then I’m assuming Australium would be under earth science...” You broke free from his hold. Oddly enough, it was strange because you could almost still feel the tingle from where his hand was. It made your heart skip a beat, but you tried to shake it off by examining the books on the shelves. The number on the spines were in the 300’s, “... Which means we need to go further this way.” You pointed down a few rows, “Science is between the numbers five-hundred and five ninety-nine.”

A small laugh escaped from Spy’s lips, “Oh Backer, what would this world do without your knowledge?” It was in a teasing tone, but he meant it in all good fun.

Soon after he began to follow behind you, but what he couldn’t see was the fact that you were trying to hold back a large smile. You brought a small part from the collar of your zip-up to cover your mouth.

Once you arrived at the section you immediately began to scan the shelves. “Since it’s an ‘A’ it shouldn’t be too far into the aisle.” You started skimming the books on the lower shelves as Spy searched on the higher ones. Over and over the two of you looked in the same places in the ‘A’ section before it began to merge into the ‘B’s’. After a few minutes, you both looked at each other displeased.

“It seems we are not having a lot of luck searching here.” Spy commented.

“Let’s go ask the front.” You pointed back over to the center of the hall. Spy only nodded and began to follow you once again.

The old lady was fast asleep at the table now. You walked up to the desk and gently leaned in towards her, “Excuse me?” You asked in a quiet voice.

The woman jerked up in a groggy state. You jumped surprised by her sudden movement. “Yes, huh--?” She called out, but not looking in any particular direction.

“... We’re looking for books about Australium. Do you happen to know where we could find them?” You still spoke quietly, just so the atmosphere was still calm for the newly awoken elder.

“Books about Australia?” She asked.

“No, _Australium,”_ You repeated, “It’s a type of metal?”

Her face twisted into a look of confusion. But her eyes weren’t focused on you, rather, they were on Spy, “Why is that man wearing a mask?” She asked out loud.

You turned to look at Spy who was just standing around idly, he was just as confused as you were. With a sigh, he walked up to the desk as well, “Please, _madame,_ it is getting quite late. Are there any books available about Australium? The faster we can find it, the faster we can all go home and rest.”

She squinted up at the two of you. Her fists went to rub her eyes behind her large glasses before she pointed a small finger at Spy, “Wait a second… Yes, yes, I recognize you now. You’re one of the lads that killed Santa last Smissmas.” A dopey grin grew on her lips.

Spy put his face in his hand and shook his head groaning. You gave him a look of total bewilderment. The old woman gave a small cackle, “Oh, yes _Australium._ That name sounds familiar now… I’m sorry, but I’m afraid books on that topic aren’t available to the public.”

“But, you’re saying that they’re here?” You questioned.

“Yes, dear.” She confirmed.

“... At the _public library.”_

“Only authorized individuals can access the library’s archives.”

The three of you just exchanged a blank look with one another. You couldn’t believe this! Your fist tightened as it sat on the table. You began to open your mouth to say something, but you felt Spy’s hand cover yours and guide it off the desk. “It seems that it cannot be helped. Thank you for your assistance. Come along, Backer. Let’s get going.”

While still holding your hand he began to head for the doors. You tried to resist, but inevitably you were forced to catch up to him. “Spy, we can’t just leave now! The information we want is just sitting _right_ in front of us. We have to do som--” You whispered to him, but he cut you off.

“We are not leaving, mademoiselle. I have an idea,” You felt his thumb rub across the top of your hand,

“Trust me.”

Your face could turn red at any moment. For it to cool down you had to look away from him for a second. “It just doesn’t make sense. Why have books at a public library if they’re not readily available to _the public?”_

“I question the same thing. It would not be held in the archives if it was information they weren’t trying to hold back.” The doors were pressed open and you were greeted by the night’s starry sky. You finally looked back towards him,

“... And what’s this about you killing Santa?”

He didn’t respond.

“Spy?”

“That’s a story for another day.”

*******

“There’s no way this is gonna work.” You responded while looking into the mirror of the car’s sun visor. You brushed a finger across the felt mustache that sat on your upper lip. It was only a sticker, of course. In the end, it just made you look like you were getting ready to wear a Halloween costume. “Even a child could see right through this.”

“You would be surprised,” Spy responded. He sat in the driver's seat examining himself in his mirror as well. On his lap sat a small container that held various amounts of different accessories and cosmetics. A small mustache sticker was on his lip as well, paired along with a monocle and a bowler hat. “Were you ever told why you are not supposed to drink the tap water here?”

“Isn’t there lead in it?”

“Correct. Now, take that and provide it to an entire population for generations-- also knowing what the effects of lead do to the mind. What does that give you?”

“Oh,” You covered your lips with your hand. “... Oh my…”

Spy plopped a hat onto your head, “Try putting as much of your hair in it as possible.”

“Got it,” You did exactly what you were told. “Are we ready to go?”

You could tell Spy was trying to hold back his laughter, “Just one more thing…” He pulled out a large flashy ribbon. With red, white, and blue stripes surrounding the outline, it read “V.I.P.” in large letters. “Wear this over your team logo.”

Hesitantly, you took it from his grasp and covered your embroidered RED symbol. You opened the car door and stepped back so Spy could see your full outfit. “How do I look?”

“Like an _authorized individual.”_ He gave you a thumbs up.

“I can’t help but think you’re just trying to make me look as ridiculous as you can.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and crack a smile.

“Me? Poking fun at you? I would never do such a thing.” A small echo of laughter was heard as he locked the car doors. The two of you entered the building and approached the desk once again. The old woman was occupied with a book.

With a tiny push from Spy, you were forced to move forward. You cleared your throat nervously. In attempts to gain her attention you tried to mimic the manliest voice you could produce, “Pardon me, ma’am...” It was an ill attempt, but you tried nonetheless.

A small snicker was heard from behind you. You turned your head back in Spy’s direction who was covering his mouth with his hands. He was trying so hard to stifle his laughter.

You felt shaky from his reaction. Yep, that was totally embarrassing. There was no going back now though. The old woman picked up her head and smiled. “Yes, how can I help you, sir?”

“Uh... My colleague and I,” You gestured towards Spy, “Are from the Teufort city council.”

“Are you gentlemen here for _Men’s Night?”_

“Men’s Night..?” You broke character for a moment and looked back at your masked friend. Urgency spread on his face as he gestured for you to continue. Realization quickly overcame you as you turned back to the woman, “Oh! Men’s Night, of course! _Authorized individuals_ for Men’s Night. Yep, that’s us. ” You let a small fake laugh follow.

The woman pointed to the staircase at the back wall. “It’s taking place on the third floor. You shouldn’t have too much trouble finding them.”

“Alright, thank you very much.” You took a step back from the desk and started towards the steps. Spy came to your side, a very entertained look still sat on his face.

“Keep this acting of yours up and you just might put me out of a job.”

“Can it, Spy.” The heat of humility rolled back onto you, but you tried with all your might to not cave in and laugh. It was pretty ridiculous.

“Non, non, but to be truly honest it wasn’t a horrible effort for being so impromptu.”

“You can try sugarcoating it all you want, but even I still think it was embarrassing.”

“You’re too hard on yourself, ma chérie.”

Once reaching the top of the stairs the two of you were suddenly greeted by different mixtures of mumbling. Dozens of nicely dressed men stood in small groups conversing with one another. Some held different smoking products (even though smoking was not permitted in the library), and some of them held small glasses of assorted refreshments.

It set you back slightly, but Spy put a hand on your shoulder for reassurance, “Do not be worried; follow my lead.”

He walked out into the group and you followed shortly behind. Each group that you passed seemed to be primmer than the last. As you walked past, some of them gave you strange looks.

Eventually, Spy stationed the two of you with a group that stood near the wall. He struck up a simple questionnaire for the men about themselves and their work. They all pleasantly responded, but they kept gawking at your presence.

Finally, one of the bigger men of the group spoke. “And who might _this_ pipsqueak be?” He looked back up at Spy. A cigarette rested in his hand.

“This is the head librarian’s subordinate. He is being trained to replace the old one once he retires, isn’t that right?” Spy looked back at you and flashed a smile.

“Yes, that is correct.” You tried speaking in your manly voice again and nodded your head.

“Is that so?” The man raised a brow to you, “I speak to the head librarian often, he has never mentioned that he has taken someone under his wing.”

“Well, I’m… I’m pretty new! And he said that I’m allowed to close on certain nights. You gentlemen have a little more time before we are done for the night, but I have also left something in the archives that wasn’t supposed to be in there. I forgot my key at home because I was in such a rush as well… Do any of you happen to have a spare I could borrow?”

The group all fell silent for a minute. The big man with the cigarette took in a puff and blew the smoke in the direction of your face. You waved the haze away and quietly coughed. Spy shot him a nasty glare.

“I’m still not fully convinced. I will strike you a deal though, if you can show me that you have _any_ sort of authentication to gain access into the archives, then I’ll lend you my spare.” He plucked a small key that was strung to a leather lanyard and waved it in front of you tauntingly.

Beads of sweat formed on your brow. How were you going to prove that? It seemed like all hope was lost. You’d have to abort the mission and find someone else to convince.

That was when Spy cleared his throat in your direction.

You looked his way, his eyes were focused on another part of the room, but his fingers kept repeatedly tapping the side of his chest.

Authentication.

Authorization…

Authorized…

_Authorized Individual!_

It was the correlating side where the ribbon sat on your chest!

Triumphantly, you jabbed a finger at the badge, “I _do_ have authentication! Right here! See? It means that I’m a very important person in the library! Well, it was supposed to read ‘very important head librarian’s assistant’. But ‘V.I.H.L.A’ doesn’t make as much sense or doesn’t have as good of a ring as ‘V.I.P.’ and--”

“Okay, okay! I get it! Take it if it’ll shut you up.” The man tossed you the key in annoyance. You fumbled to catch it but successfully did so. The man took another inhale from his cigarette, “Just make sure to give it back before you close for the night. Come along men, I need one last drink.”

The group of men separated from you and Spy. Once they left you both exchanged bright smiles. You took a moment to check down at your watch, “We should hurry. We’ve only got ten minutes before they close.”

“With our efforts, we only need five, mademoiselle. Let us move.”

Both of you started to scout out the perimeter of the third floor. Part of you was nervous that you weren’t going to find it with enough time to look inside-- if you ever found it at all. After a few minutes of sticking to the wall, a large metal door was wedged between two bookshelves. As you both approached there was a small plaque that simply read “archives”. The window on the opposite side was pitch black.

You lifted the key and began to wiggle it in the lock. A cold breeze from the inside blew past you both. The deadly silence from the inside made you a little worried. You looked to Spy for safety. He gazed down towards you and gave a simple nod and gentle smile.

The sound of your own heart pounded in your ears.

This was it.

With one last deep inhale through the nose, you took the first step towards what you hoped were answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Translations: **
> 
> **Mon amie-** My friend (feminine) [French]
> 
>  **Petit Sucre rose-** Little sugar rose [French]
> 
>  **Madame-** Mrs (feminine) [French]
> 
>  **Mademoiselle-** Miss (feminine) [French]
> 
>  **Ma chérie-** My dear (feminine) [French]
> 
> Also! Check out this awesome SFM poster [big_scrunch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/big_scrunch/pseuds/big_scrunch) made! It's a POV where you (Backer) is sitting and reading along with Spy! Make sure to check out her story "Jack of all Trades" if you haven't already!


	16. Does This Count As Spying?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get the book and leave. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.
> 
> ... Right? :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOOOOOO I wanted to do something fun and incorporate a song to fit with a certain scene in the chapter!
> 
> The link for the song is [Here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SV1juxVlpic)!
> 
> I'll let you figure out where it goes ;)

The stuffy feeling from being in a tight space blanketed around you. Neither of you bothered to turn on the lights, but you heard a metallic clicking sound from behind you. Spy had taken out a lighter as he quietly shut the door behind him. He flashed you a half-smile; signaling you to continue walking.

With wobbly legs, you pressed onwards. From what you could make out in the dim lighting were shelves upon shelves of sturdy cardboard containers. Each box had a sticker on the front that labeled who owned the fonds and the items held inside. The long aisles came off as a little too overwhelming for your liking.

"How are we supposed to know where to look?" You whispered over to your friend, trying to keep your footsteps as quiet as possible.

"It may just be a matter of searching around," He mumbled, "How about we split up? We can cover more areas that way. You can take the lighter. I will be fine on my own."

"If you say so," He carefully handed you the lighter, "If one of us finds anything let's try and meet up."

"I will keep that in mind." Were his final words. The sound of his cloaking device hissed, then he was gone.

You began to focus on the compartments the shelves held. Many were names you have never heard of, probably civilians or businesses. There may be some sensitive information you'd rather not dig around in if you believed they did not have what you were looking for. So you tried to avoid any titles that didn't seem to match. 

There was _some_ standard to be held.

Multiple times you would bring the lighter closer to your wristwatch to look at the time. A sour taste formed in your mouth as you watched the time slip closer and closer to ten o'clock. With the new stress for time, you paced up and down the rows taking less care into your search to find a lead.

It was foolish to think ten minutes would be enough time to search a room with this much content.

Eventually, there was a small section that broke from the endless stream of shelves that had large wooden cupboards that hugged the wall. If you were going to stop and collect your thoughts, this was the place to be. You flicked the lighter closed and approached one of the cabinets.

You let out an agitated groan as you quietly leaned against the structure. You massaged your temples as your eyes tried to adjust to the dark. For the hell of it, you checked your watch again,

9:57 p.m.

Anxiety pushed through you, maybe if you started speed checking in those last three minutes you would find something? It's a ridiculous idea, but there wasn't much you could do otherwise. You snapped up from where you were leaning and moved towards the closest row. Over each label, you pointed and read along, desperately trying to find something, _anything,_ that may have some sort of relevance.

The cardboard surface of the boxes gently slid across your finger. "C'mon..." You murmured to yourself, "C'mon!" The lights in the room were now switched on, blinding you for a second by the sudden brightness.

Your heart leaped into your throat.

Masculine voices were heard through the rows and grew closer by the second.

"I told you, he said that he was going to be in _here!"_ That voice you recognized. It was the bigger man you took the key from.

"Yes, you've said that about a million times now. We're checking, see?" This was a voice you couldn't identify. Whoever it may be was the least of your worries, it was just important for them not to find you.

With quick-paced breaths, you began to tiptoe towards the corner of the room. You backed up while still facing out to where the voices came from, only to bump right into the side of a cabinet. Your shaky hand tried to find a handle, but nothing was in reach.

Their footsteps were heard just around the corner. It wasn't difficult to predict what would come next: a mix of their yelling as they angrily would trap you in this already tiny space. You shut your eyes and pressed your hands tightly against the cupboard and braced for the worse.

A sudden force squeezed onto your arm. Your breath hitched as you were suddenly pulled backward. The confusion of the moment wanted you to cry out for help, but a clothed hand pressed against it to muffle any noise you would have made.

Once your vision could focus, you saw you were leaning up against Spy. "Shh," His hush was gentle but still urgent. His other hand pressed a finger to his lips.

Your eyes darted to look at the scene around you. It was an even _smaller_ space compared to the corner you were originally trapped in. Two long wooden slabs were closed by a small metal latch on your right. Spy's face was only a few centimeters away from your own. 

... Were you in one of the closets?

There was a loud creak from the wood when you tried to shift your leg. Spy's hands moved from your mouth onto your shoulders as he pressed you into his chest.

"I am sorry, mademoiselle, but we need to stay quiet." His whisper in your ear was barely audible. It felt like your face was on fire. All you could do was sink into his embrace to reduce any other noise.

The footsteps outside grew louder. A string of curses came from one of the men.

"I don't-- I don't understand! He was supposed to be here! I watched the exit; nobody came down from this floor before we started looking!" It was the big guy again. Now thinking about it, he seemed like the wrong person to borrow something from.

"If he was in here we would of saw him by now. Listen, it's past ten. We'll keep looking, but we are going to make our way downstairs while doing so. Understand?" Their voices faded away as they walked past the cupboard.

Even after the voices were long gone you didn't move a muscle. You could tell his chest was firm from how your face rested on it. This whole scenario left you shaky.

"I can feel your heart beating at a million miles an hour." Spy teased.

"You scared the living christ out of me." You whispered up to him. Your arms tried to push up from the wall, but they felt like jelly.

Your discomposure made him chuckle. His hand tried to soothe your worries by caressing the back of your neck. You stiffened up in his hold.

"Oh Backer, always so bashful. And for what?" He purred as he caught your gaze. You were speechless. The only thing you could do is stare back at him with a helpless expression.

Slowly, he lifted his closest arm to the door and opened the latch. It made a loud squeak as the darkness of the archives was revealed again. For sure the men had left the room. The two of you stumbled out of the cupboard and took a moment to freshen yourselves back up.

It was almost embarrassing to look back at Spy. Just how he held you into his chest with such care, lightly teasing and prodding at you the entire time... The feelings you felt were something you couldn't put your finger on, but it left your stomach in knots and pretending to be focused on anything but him.

After Spy finished fixing his tie he turned to you, "Come with me, there is something you might want to check out."

You nodded your head and dug into your pocket to retrieve his lighter to give back to him. He opened it and began walking to the opposite side of the room.

It led to a row of shelves that did not seem any more special from the others. Stopping about two-thirds of the way in the aisle, Spy knelt to start observing the labels on the lower level. Eventually, his hovering hand paused and waved you over, "Do you see this?"

His finger pointed in the direction of an oddly large gap between two containers. You raised a brow, "Is there supposed to be a box there?" You inquired.

"I believe so. Take a closer look at the labels next to them."

You observed what was written on the other boxes. Both contained the prefix 'australi-'. Though, it would never finish forming the exact word you were looking for. 

"The Australium section is gone..." Your whisper was low.

"That's not all," He stood back up and hastily left that row. You trailed closely behind. Just only a few sections down did he enter and began to search again. He stopped and pointed out another abnormally large gap made within the containers. "Whose section do you believe this belongs to?"

The neighboring labels were in the "T's". Each one that sat beside the space had a "T.F." initial followed along with a name or business.

Wait-- T.F.?

"TF Industries has fonds here too...?" You looked up at him.

"And they seem to be missing as well."

You follow his statement with a long hum. "I think we're seeing some things begin to align here..." You spoke out, but it received no response. While focused on the spot you allowed your mind to wander, "It's odd to find out both TF Industries and the Australium files are missing at the _exact_ same time... On the _same_ day I talked to Miss Pauling about getting a book from here."

The space was filled by you placing a hand between the boxes, "This isn't some sort of coincidence. There's something weird going on."

There was another pause before you let out a sigh in defeat, "Well... if there's nothing here I guess we should get going. It's getting late..." A lump formed in your throat, "I'm so sorry, Spy... It seems like I led us on a wild goose chase for nothing."

Still no response from the Frenchman.

His silence finally caught your attention. You broke your stare to face where he was originally standing. 

He was gone.

"Spy?" You called out while walking towards the end of the row. Your head scanned around the room. No sight of him. Worried by his sudden disappearance you began to aimlessly weave through the rows.

Near the exit of the room, there were the sounds of rummaging a few sections down. You popped your head to peek around the corner.

"Spy!" You scolded, perhaps a little too loud for your liking. 

There he was crouched down quietly sliding one of the containers out of its space. His other arm was occupied trying to balance a stack of boxes on one another. He looked like a deer in headlights as his eyes shot in your direction, "What?"

"What are you doing with all that--" For a second you brought your hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose, "Forget it, it's fine. You probably didn't hear it anyway."

"I wasth listhening," There was a manila folder clenched between his teeth which made his words jumbled. Walking over you took the file from his mouth, you could see a hint shame dash his expression, "... Merci."

"Let's get going," You pressed, disappointment waved in your tone, "As I said, it's getting super late now."

Spy slowly rose from the floor with his treasures still in hand. The two of you walked out of the archives in silence. You sullenly stared down at your feet with each step you took.

"We're looking for a gentleman in a fine-looking hat... He claimed to be my assistant and is wearing a 'V.I.P.' badge on his chest."

You didn't even reach the bottom of the stairs when you stopped dead in your tracks. Only a few dozen yards ahead away stood the big man. A scrawny guy with glasses stood next to him and was talking to two other men of a bulkier build.

The big man's voice boomed out as he caught sight of the stairs, "THERE! THEM THERE! THEY'RE THE ONES WHO STOLE MY KEY!"

Both Spy and yourself stood rigid. The other men's heads pointed up to stare at you both with uncertainty on what to do. The big man broke the tension and pointed at you in fury.

"DON'T JUST STAND THERE! GET THEM!!"

Spy's hand wrapped around your wrist, "Run!" Only a few moments later the two of you burst out into a sprint. Some of the boxes from Spy's pile flew past you.

"HEY!" An angry voice roared from behind. Only for a second did you build up the courage to look behind you. The two stronger men were chasing after you. A small cry of fear bubbled out from you as you tried to keep up with Spy.

The dash down the next flight of stairs was quick. There were even a few steps you hopped down to avoid wasting time. Burning came from your ankle, only now remembering you still had your foot bandaged within your shoe.

On the main floor, you were met with two other men blocking the exit. They started to dash towards you both as the guys from upstairs were right on your tail. Spy's grip on your wrist broke loose.

"Go left, Backer!" He called. Before any response could be formed he ran off towards the line of shelves on the right. You followed his orders and changed directions.

While you passed the shelves one of the men was keeping up with you on the opposite side. Pounding from the ground behind you implied that someone had followed your trail. Your levels of anxiety were at an all-time high as you struggled to figure out where to go. All you could think about was running forward.

The wall of the building grew near. Without thinking you took a sharp turn right into the aisle. 

You had forgotten about the guy on the opposite end.

He was charging right towards you.

Someone's presence from behind began to enclose as well. Your surroundings were a blur as your eyes darted around trying to figure out what to do. The space shrunk smaller and smaller.

You jumped off to the side at the very last second and latched onto the shelf next to you. A loud groaning came from the floor, snapping your head around you saw that the two men ran right into each other. They sat on the ground in a dazed state, you scurried up the rest of the shelf until you made it to the top.

You scoped out the rest of the library from that height. Spy was nowhere to be seen, but you could hear shouting from the other side of the building. Your gaze then went to the front desk. The old lady from earlier stared up at you in astonishment, almost impressed. Both men on the ground scrambled to their feet. They gave you some of the nastiest looks you've ever seen.

"Get down from there you bastard!" One of them barked.

"Make me!" You retorted. The remark felt like an out-of-body experience. It did not feel like it was truly _you_ who said it.

The two men grabbed onto the case and attempted to climb the shelf. You walked further off to the side so they wouldn't have direct contact with you if they made it up. Many of the books began flopping to the floor as they both struggled to scale.

The sound of wood snapping rang through the aisle as the two violently plummeted back onto the ground. Remains of an old shelf scattered onto the ground. An abundance of books fell along with it, hitting them. Their frustration only grew.

You had an idea. Bending down to reach the shelf beneath your feet you grabbed onto a few books. One by one you began hurling them at the guys. They brought their arms out to block them from hitting their face. 

That was the final straw.

Both stormed over to the section of shelf you stood on and aggressively began to shake it. For the first few rocks not much happened, but once more force was applied it began to sway almost making you lose balance. Your mind raced as you crouched down to prevent you from falling.

You had to move quickly.

The first thing you observed was the ground below. Based on how much the shelf was shaking it didn't seem like directly jumping down in the other aisle was the safest option. You then looked up at the top of the shelf next to you. When you were on the ground it didn't seem like the shelves were spaced too far from one another... Now at the top, they looked further than you thought.

A memory played back in your head. You remembered only a few months back Scout taught you some dodging tricks if you 'ever found yourself in a pickle'. While most of it was a stunt to try and impress you, one thing you remember learning was jumping off a surface and rolling safely onto the ground.

The shaking now had the shelf barely on its edges. Snapping out of thought you prepared yourself, squatting as you eyed the next platform. Once the shelf tipped closer in the direction of the next case you sprung from one surface to the next. Your feet barely touched the top as you slid across and towards the floor.

With hands barely sprung out your body spun from one shoulder to the opposite hip. It was a violent roll for a landing, but it worked. You sprawled out onto your side with your hat sitting close by. 

"I owe you one, Scout." You whispered to yourself out loud. Never have you been more thankful for his nonsense until now.

The sounds of the rocking shelf stopped as the guys called to follow you. You jumped to your feet, grabbed the hat, and ran out from the aisle and to the exit.

As you pushed the glass doors open you saw the other two men who took off in Spy's direction come from a section nearby. The night sky wrapped around you as you booked it down the front steps and towards the car. You saw Spy peek out from a bush near the parking lot, looking shocked seeing how you were being pursued by all four men.

Spy waved you over with one hand. He began to run towards the vehicle once you passed him.

"The door's unlocked!" his voice cut through the air as you rushed for the door handle.

Just as you hopped into the passenger's side you saw Spy slide up and over the hood of the car. He just barely made the landing as he pounced into the driver's seat. His hand fumbled with the car keys as the engine struggled to spark. The other footsteps stormed closer. 

Finally, the engine gave life and Spy took no hesitation to punch the car into reverse. You tensed up in your seat and grabbing onto its edges as Spy's head was thrown back to look out the rear window. The car now faced the men who didn't stop running. The sound of the gear shifted as you then were shoved into your seat as the car barreled right towards the four.

You wanted to call out to have Spy swerve out of the direction of the men, but your breath clogged your throat and you couldn't speak. The men saw the incoming vehicle and jumped out of the way just before they could make contact with the front. Tires screeched as Spy took a sharp turn out of the library's lot and back onto the street.

He refused to slow down, not until the town was nowhere in sight. At some point you turned your head to face the back window, dust was kicked as Teufort shrunk out of view. It must have been enough distance because the car slowed down. What was a tensed-up Spy loosened up his shoulders. You sat back down in your seat and started removing parts of your disguise.

"That... Was close." Was the first thing you breathed out as you peeled the mustache sticker off your lip.

"Yes, yes it was." Spy's voice was firm. He began to take off parts of his disguise as well. His eyes darted in your direction for a second before returning to the road, "You're not injured, are you?"

"No, I think I'm okay," You observed from your shoulders down to see if anything was visibly different, but you looked fine. "My ankle hurts a little, but it shouldn't be anything serious..." Your hand dropped to where your shoe covered the bandages. Rubbing it helped relieve some of the burning. It was then you noticed you no longer had the folder you took from Spy, "I uh... I think I dropped the file folder at some point."

A smirk grew on Spy's face, "That is the least of my worries... I almost forgot you hurt your foot the _last_ time we went out together."

You weren't in a joking mood, but you forced out a laugh anyways, "Yeah... Crazy stuff." Silence fell in the car as you stared out the window at the scenery.

The quiet hung in the air for quite some time. It wasn't uncomfortable for you, but you could hear Spy shift around in his seat. He was the first one to break it.

"I did not have time to mention it back there, but there is nothing you need to apologize for." His voice made you lean back in your chair. You kept your focus on your feet now that you were sitting in your own disappointment.

When he didn't get a reply he spoke again, "I was the one who gave you hope that we would find what you were looking for. This 'wild goose chase' you mentioned is entirely on my part. So I should be apologizing to you..."

The sound of the turn signal clicked through the inside of the vehicle. Spy began to slow the car down and pulled it onto the side of the road. You still didn't look up from your feet, but you were curious as to why you were stopping.

After parking, there was another brief pause. Then there was more sound from him moving in his seat, and from the corner of your eye, you saw his legs point in your direction.

One of his hands slid to grab hold of a hand that sat in your lap. His intertwined with yours, melting it into a soft touch. All you wanted was time to reflect in self-anguish. You fought with all your mental strength to not look up at him.

His other hand made its way to your chin. The thumb and forefinger guided your glance so you would face him. There was only a short frame of time where you could still keep your eyes down before having no choice but to look up at his face.

Icy blue eyes stared back, and they had a hard expression to them. Yet the smile he held was so tender and warm...

The hand on your chin left and grabbed hold of the hand that still rested on your leg. Bringing them together he clasped both from the top and bottom. You couldn't leave his eyes now, so the same glum look stared back.

"I'm so sorry, Backer.." His voice was just as delicate as his touch, "I did not mean to lead you to such disappointment."

You felt your lip quiver open, but no words came out.

"Can you forgive me?" 

The sincerity and pain in his voice made your heart do backflips. The sorrow that you felt was now bundled with shock. You didn't know how to react.

"It's not your fault..." Is what you managed to muster out. Airiness lined every word, but it was clear enough for him to hear. "I'm not upset at you... I did this to myself and got my hopes up too high," You then found the strength to crack a smile, "That just means I need to dig a little deeper, right?"

Spy returned an even sunnier expression. It was only then when you noticed how gorgeous his smile truly was. "That is right, ma chérie. Just know I will always be here if you want to tell me _anything."_

Your sadness began to wash away. At that moment you couldn't have been more grateful to have him there. "... Thank you, Spy."

"There isn't much I wouldn't do for you, mon amie. You are someone special to me."

Those words were exactly what you needed to hear. You could feel your face grow warm for the ten-thousandth time that night. Never in the moment did you notice how close both were until he slowly pulled away. A cold space of air filled the gap between the two of you as he lightly put your hands down.

It was strange, but you couldn't help but feel like something was missing during that exchange. Something a lot more affectionate and intimate...

... You couldn't help but feel embarrassed to know what exactly that was.

You were still a blushing mess as Spy signaled to pull back onto the road. As you calmed down you felt sleepiness loom overhead. A small yawn was covered by your arm as you slunk deeper into the chair.

"Get some sleep if you must. It has been a long night," His voice was still soft, "I will wake you when it's time."

"No, it's fine-- we're only about half an hour away. I can stay awake." You protested, but the calm atmosphere wasn't helping.

"If you insist." He chaffed.

His comment was discarded with a joking tisk from you. The lower you melted into the chair the more you thought about how... comfortable it was. As you tried to look out the window you noticed that the frame of the car grew darker and darker. The thrums from the engine were becoming more muffled.

Then nothing.

It only felt like seconds later when you felt a small shake on your shoulder. "I hate to wake you, mon chou. But we are back at your base."

Groggily you rubbed your eyes as they slowly opened. "Okay," You said in a small drone and slid out of the car, "Have a goodnight. I'll keep in touch."

"As will I. Sleep well, Backer. I hope to see you again soon."

You gave him one last sweet smile before closing the car door. Turning back to the front of your base you noticed that most of the lights were off. Looking over at Sniper's van you saw that light came from the vents. To try and avoid being noticed you crouched down as you passed the vehicle. Once in the clear, you rushed towards the same side door you left the building from.

Everyone must have retired to their rooms for the evening because you were the only one in the hall. Just as you were about to fumble with the doorknob of your room you felt something bump against your shoe and hit the wall. A cloth bag sat off to the side of your doorframe. Nothing has ever been in its place before, so you grabbed it and brought it with you inside. After quietly closing the door and locking it you dropped it onto your bed. When opening it the first thing to stand out was small handwriting on a piece of blank paper. You slowly lifted it out from the bag to skimmed over it.

**Backer,**

**I apologize for cutting you off earlier this morning. I did some digging and found something for you to look at. I hope this helps!**

**\- Miss P**

Letting out a small gasp you pried the bag open all the way. At the bottom rested a book. When pulling it out you observed the cover and its big bold title that read _  
**"The Complete Guide and History to Australium: The World's Most Innovative Element".**   
_

You have got to be fucking kidding.

That was _a lot_ easier than you were expecting. Now you felt horrible for going out and causing such a ruckus at the library.

Well, you just hoped the disguise fooled them. At least fooled them enough that they wouldn't want to imprison you the second you step foot in that town again.

Going to your wardrobe you pulled out a small slip of paper and your pen. At this point, you could care less about penmanship. It was late and you were too tired to put in too much effort. You scribbled down what you wanted to say and activated your mini teleporter.

After putting the book back in the bag you shut off the lights. You reorganized your bed and got comfortable under the blanket. A smile stamped on your lips as you hummed yourself to sleep.

The world better watch out...

... because there's a new series you're going to begin with Spy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you find out where the song fits? Hehe
> 
>   
> **Translations:**  
> 
> 
>  **Mademoiselle-** Miss (feminine) [French]
> 
>  **Merci-** Thank you [French]
> 
>  **Ma chérie-** My dear (feminine) [French]
> 
>  **Mon amie-** My friend (feminine) [French]
> 
>  **Mon chou-** Sweetheart/Sweetie/My cabbage (💀 lmao i can't i'm sorry) [French]


	17. Fait Accompli

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are we history buffs now? :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All translations are at the end of the chapter!
> 
> GENTLEMEN. I. AM. BACK!!!
> 
> Sorry for the lack of updates in August! I got pretty busy with some other obligations. Hopefully, I can be more productive since I start school again!

Blood-caked clothing was your least favorite part of your job.

A day’s worth of sweat and various spills and stains from the items you provided the men already made it bad enough. By that point, you just want to hose yourself off. Topping it off with a slick, wet, layer of blood that doesn’t belong to you is what made it the most aggravating.

Today was yet another messy day to clean. 2Fort was always very filthy due to the space being so small. Then take plenty of weapons that enjoy blowing people to bits upon close contact.

Anyways…

You finished cleaning up for the evening. The stars twinkled like glitter on a black sheet of paper. You stationed yourself so that you were sitting against the rail of the bridge, being extra cautious not to lean into BLU’s territory.

Even though there was nobody out to witness you hover into their space, that fear still lingered in the back of your head. It was always the worst-case scenario. Some of which you would stop yourself and laugh.

You’re not afraid of sneaking OUTSIDE of the fighting area, but getting close onto BLU’s side of the yard? Backwards thoughts in a backwards job.

Now thinking about it, Spy was later than normal. Usually, he’d pick up on your cleaning rituals quickly. A new wave of worry shot through you while constantly moving your attention from one base to the other.

Just before you were going to stumble back to your feet, the sounds of footsteps were heard splashing from below the bridge. It came from BLU’s side, which opted for you to turn in that direction only to find nobody standing there.

“Spy?” You called out in a whisper.

He would have made himself present by now. If you were being honest, this was starting to creep you out. You slowly stood up, cautiously staring in the direction the noise came from.

You brought a foot forward and tiptoed closer to the enemy’s end. You bit down on your lip as you pushed through the wobbly feeling in your legs. A loud creak came from the boards below you which made you cringe.

“Backer!” A harsh whisper came out of thin air. It sounded like it was coming from below the bridge. You stopped to lean over the railing. Looking down at BLU’s pipe entrance, Spy stood waving you down. “Get down here, hurry!”

A rifle being loaded echoed through the dark. Your head moved in the direction of the noise. Up on the second floor of BLU’s base, their Sniper had just strolled out from the opening. His attention was away from you, but even catching a glimpse of his figure put you on red-alert.

Initially, you were frozen in fear, unsure of what to do. You were so easily exposed, as soon as he’d focus on the bridge he’d spot you. More than likely, blow your head to bits as well. You then glanced towards Spy, who was now trying to mouth the words ‘jump’.

Mentally counting down, you gripped onto the bridge’s rail and plunged into the water below. The splashing noise was replaced by bubbles from your landing. Keeping your head underwater, you swam to underneath the bridge’s structure.

Your head broke the surface from the water. You tried your damnedest to control your breathing, making sure it wasn’t too loud. The Sniper had to have heard you for sure. If it weren’t for the overheard protection, your skull would be like a broken eggshell.

To prevent any splashing, you still kept low in the water as you approached the pipe. Disgust was your main thought. Covered in blood, dirt, and now strangely warm drain water. What could be better? Spy looked down at you, a cheeky smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Going for a swim?” He inquired.

“Hardy har har,” You responded sarcastically, ringing some of the excess water from the bottom of your jacket, “You have the book, right?”

“But of course. I have it right here,” Spy grabbed an item that was tucked between his arm. He showcased the cover, “This will be the first time I will see the contents inside. I _am_ a man of my word.”

When Spy initially asked to hold onto the book, you were a little hesitant yourself. As much faith you have put into Spy in the past already, you still get times where you question his... _Intentions._

He _is_ a spy after all.

His entire occupation is to prowl on information like this.

You had to sit on the thought during breakfast. It must have been a good morning because your outlook on the matter was positive.

Spy has helped you out this far with your wacky journey. Putting more trust into him wouldn’t hurt anybody. Even if he did take a peek, he’d still be looking at the content with you. So, you sent him the book before the day’s mission began.

After being drenched from head to toe, maybe it was the smarter decision to leave the book with Spy.

“This way, my dear.” His voice sang while gesturing you to follow him further into the drain.

Your stomach began to cramp, standing completely still at the opening. Never had you been so deep into enemy territory before. The stories the guys told about what happened to them in the BLU base always left you uneasy. There was the danger of your identity being compromised by the rest of the enemy team. What would the company do to you? Or your team? The unknown was the most terrifying thing of them all.

Spy picked up on your hesitance and stopped himself. He turned to face you, offering a gentle smile, “You don’t need to worry, it is safe. Nobody knows that we are down here.”

His words were offered as a strange sort of comfort. You loosened up a little and took small steps closer to Spy. He waited patiently for you to catch up.

“I promise,” He cooed. For only a moment longer, he gazed down to look at you through the dark. Your uncertainty made him chuckle, “I will not let anything happen to you.”

The more he spoke, the more restful you became. Once again, Spy has stuck with you this far, why would it be any different now? After another moment of thought, you nodded your head in agreement.

That was enough confirmation for him to start walking again. You stuck close by his side, trying your absolute best not to make any noise. Light started to bleed into the tunnel.

It then opened up to a small room. Two large drains sat on different walls, one of which leads up to a staircase. The other being the one you just traveled through. Off to the side was an area with a concrete floor. You both walked up the steps so you were standing on the landing.

You took the lead and sat in the corner tucked away from both drain’s heads. Spy wiped off the part of the ground and sat next to you, offering the book back. It rested on your lap as you squirmed to get comfortable.

“Is it weird to say I’m nervous?” You asked, eyes focused on the texture of the cover.

“Not at all. It has been a headache to get to this point. Getting the answers so easily is almost frightening.”

“Alright,” You sighed, taking a deep breath, “Let’s do this.”

The first thing you wanted to examine was who wrote the book. At the bottom of the cover, a name in small printing was slowly starting to fade away.

“Martin Campbell?” You questioned, “... I’m trying to remember if I have heard that name before.” A moment’s pause later, you came to the conclusion that you haven’t. “Nope, doesn’t ring a bell.”

“I have not heard of the name until now, either.” Spy added on.

_… Campbell._

That will have to be a name you remember in the future.

You slowly opened the book. The side where labeling about the printing company and copyright claims were missing.

“Soo… Unless it says later in the book-- we don’t know when this was published.”

“Perhaps it is an older copy? Normally, they fade away with age. If the copyright date was… Wait.” Spy stopped himself.

His eyes squinted as he gently took the book from your grip into his own. He held the page upwards, then turned it so it revealed the inner part of the book’s spine. His finger traced down it, “Do you see this ridge here?”

You leaned in a bit closer to observe the spot. Indeed, part of the staple holding the book together was showing a little too much. “Yeah…?”

“It appears to me that someone removed the entire page that you were talking about.” He stated, “They did a fine job at it, too.”

“How in the world..?” You whispered to yourself, “There’s not even evidence of torn paper here. The spine isn’t horribly loose, either. If it fell out, wouldn’t the title page come with it too?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, cherie.” Spy sighed, focusing on the blank page. “Let’s continue. There’s more we need to figure out.”

“You’re right,” Still shocked by his observation, “What else can we find?”

Naturally, you wanted to start from the beginning. You immediately looked for what would be the table of contents. Once you found it, the lack of categorization was surprising.

There were three main headers to divide the book into three parts: ‘History’, ‘Modern Day’, and ‘The Future’. The smaller topics within each part only consisted of a few bullet points. As of now, you were fixated on its past. So many questions floated in your head about Australium. Getting a solid background would be the best first option.

The first few pages were accompanied by plenty of fancy designs around the text. An aging picture of a large gold bar was displayed on the side. A strange symbol was melted onto the top.

“This,” Spy made you acknowledge the image, “This is what a normal bar of Australium looks like.”

From closer inspection, the symbol appeared to be a man boxing kangaroo. Sniper’s comment replayed in your memory, “some bogan fighting a ‘roo…” You whispered following along with a chuckle.

“What?” Spy raised a brow.

“Nothing, nothing. Anyways…” You skimmed through the text and began to read out loud.

 _“The 1890’s for Australia is what many would consider being bittersweet. Funded by the British while still a penal colony, the nation built up into a highly functional industrialization state. The population grew, railroads were built, and more funds towards infrastructure were put in place. The banks of Australia thrived, and it seemed there was no stopping this rapid growth of a contending superpower.”_ You paused a moment before reading further,

“But then…” You added, _“Economic depression plagued the country early in the decade. This left many unemployed, homeless, and facing starvation. With a decrease in demand for wool, a core industry in Australia, many banks suffered and were forced to close. The global effect of this market crash was catastrophic, and it felt as if anever-ending tunnel of misfortune to the Australians._

_“As many were beginning to think all hope was lost, the discovery of Australium became known.”_

“I am assuming it is what got the economy back on its feet, yes?” Spy questioned. You smiled.

“You bet, it even says here that the nation’s technology grew even _more_ rapidly after they started to mine it. Look at this picture!” You pointed to another picture displayed by the text. An image of a modern-looking city stood proudly, “This was taken not even _two years_ after they discovered the element.” Even Spy seemed somewhat fascinated.

You read onward. Most detail gave insight into how Australium modeled the nation’s history and even its health effects on people. Though, the history of Australia made you feel antsy. You wanted to start looking for any ingots that looked like your own. After asking Spy, you flipped a few pages ahead in hopes of finding something.

While skimming you grinded to a stop. One header popped out to you in particular:

**_Barnabus Hale and Mann Co._ **

“Mann Co.? As in, _our_ Mann Co.?” You looked towards the Frenchman stunned.

“I could imagine.” He mused.

Your lips went dry. You cleared your throat and read out loud once again.

_“Australium, for the most part, was a secretive luxury that only was known throughout Australia. Many Aussies favored keeping the element to themselves. The wealth, power, and technological acceleration were remedies they did not want to give away. Australia was the strongest and most modern nation of its time. There was a high expectation that the state wanted to keep._

_“In late 1890, Australian businessman Barnabus Hale took over American munitions company ‘Mann Co.’ after its previous successor, Zepheniah Mann, passed away. While having past business practices with Australium, Hale began incorporating the element into certain prototypes and weapon models. These arms were scarce, so they went for a great value when being sold. They were only available in specific parts of Australia and the United States.”_

All this new knowledge on the metal was nice, but your mind began to wander off-topic again. The main question you had was yet to be answered:

Why was your last name printed on it?

“Can we skim through the book a little faster, please? I just wanna know why that… _word_ was printed on the bottom of the bar I have.”

“Of course. That’s why we were looking in the first place, is it not?”

The search began. More details about Australia growing as a nation were recorded, but in no way was there any mention of your surname being printed on any bars. A crushing feeling pressed into your chest. Cities built, weapons made, its impact made in major historical events, the decline of Australium the world still had left, it all seemed to be here. Everything BUT what you were looking for.

Even while flipping through, something strange grew present later into the book. What started with a few singular words grew into small sentences. A handful of areas of the book that were blacked out. Spy picked up on it, too. Multiple times he raised a hand to stop you, but always cut himself short.

The flapping noises of thin paper stopped.

Your last name, the same curly design and all, was plastered right in the middle of the page.

“It’s here!” You shouted in a whisper tone, still acknowledging you’re on land that’s foreign to your own.

Spy’s finger poked at the bold, large title.

_**Fifteen Minutes of Fame** _

A small gasp escaped your lips. No other captions or paragraphs sat; only the image and the ominous name. It felt like the book was trying to tease you.

Everything had to be a mystery, didn’t it?

Slower this time, you took the edge of the page and slowly turned it. Spy seemed to lean in closer so he could start reading immediately. A shocked noise came from him before anything could compute in your mind.

Your eyes grew large.

Line after line, paragraph after paragraph, all were masked with a thick, black line.

You turned to the page, censored.

The next one? Expurgated.

The page after that was sloppily torn out. Large jags were replaced where the paper was previously held in place. Even the images were cut out of their original spots.

“No…!” You begged quietly, turning the pages faster and faster. It only revealed more destruction.

“Nononono!” It was a nightmare right in front of your eyes. From that first cursed title to the back cover was tampered with.

The shredded cardboard of the breaking spine grew loose. After moving through the last section, papers fell to the floor.

“I don’t get it! Why would Miss Pauling give m--”

You sucked your lips in. A twisted thought entered your mind. Your sudden silence seemed to worry Spy. “Backer?”

“She…”

“She…?”

 _“She_ did this.”

 _“Who_ is she?”

“Miss Pauling,” You answered hastily, almost not giving Spy room to finish his question. “She--or someone who gave it to her--destroyed this book.”

Spy took the guide from your weak hold. He opened up to the pages near the end to get a closer examination of the blackened lines. Aiming the book towards the light that hung above, he tried to read the text that may have been hiding behind the dark marking.

It was no use.

“They have made it clearly obvious that they don’t want you to know whatever this book contains.” He said in a monotone voice.

“But why? Wouldn’t they want to make it as inconspicuous as possible?”

“I was thinking the same thing. But then again… Don’t you think this conveys a message of sorts?”

“A message that what they’re doing is really strange?”

“Well, yes… but no. It’s a mind trick. They are trying to outwit you.”

“How so?” You tipped your head to the side, almost sounding offended. The adrenaline rush of confusion began to kick in.

Spy’s face remained solemn, “You are probably familiar with reverse psychology.” He stated, bringing your attention to the book, “Them--whoever them may be--going out of their way to tear up this book… Makes you want to throw your hands in the air and give up, correct? You have expired the resources you were given, and there is nothing left to investigate. Makes you believe that this is a **fait accompli?”**

“A… A _fait accompli?”_ You sputtered, a laugh almost leaving with it. “You must be kidding, right?”

“No, I am very serious.”

“Who in their right mind would just accept this as their answer?” The sass in your question surprised you. It wasn’t aimed towards Spy, but it certainly did sound like it.

“This is unbelievable! I need to get to the bottom of this! I can’t afford to stand to the side and take what piss-poor evidence that they’ve given us and accept it as the only truth. And--”

 _“That,_ mademoiselle,”

Spy pulled out his cigar box from his pocket. He slipped a new one into his mouth and lit it. A smooth road of smoke left his lips after taking a slow drag, “Is where they caught you.”

You were left without words. What the hell did he just do? You must have had the right reaction on your face because it caused Spy to laugh.

“From what I’ve learned to know about you... is that you are a very sensible woman, Backer.” His eyebrows furrowed down, “The people who play these mind games enjoy taking advantage of those who are clever. The people who like to think and explore, give them the attention that they _crave.”_

You kept staring up at him. Disquiet tingled where it didn’t feel numb. The thought that was the reaction they wanted out of you was appalling.

Did they take you for an idiot?

Spy tended to his own business, filling his longing for a puff on his cigar.

“You seem worried,” His eyes flickered towards you, “You’re not the one at blame here. Nor does this make you any less bright.”

Spy’s attention gravitated towards the book, which now sat on your opposite side.

“My advice: don’t get yourself involved. As much as it may be difficult to comply, given that there is potentially more than what meets the eye, you are better off having them making fools of themselves. And, if these ‘them’s’ we keep speaking about happens to be who I am thinking they are…” Spy’s gaze was towards the wall in front of him. A deafening pause filled the air.

“... They will go to dangerous extents to get what they want. Even if that means doing something to **_you_** _.”_

His eyes fluttered closed as his cig rested between his fingers. He bathed in the still. You swallowed hard.

As much as you wanted to think, your mind was static. Just moments ago, thoughts and questions flung around in your brain like a madhouse. It all came crashing down with Spy’s stomach-churning words.

Not long after Spy straightened himself up. His eyes slowly opening as the last of what he was smoking smoldered into ash. Your attention focused on the ground, sweat started to form on the back of your neck.

Maybe… it was time to be done for the evening.

“Well then, I guess that does it.” Those words felt toxic in your mouth, “Thanks for all your help once again. … You know you didn’t have to do this if you didn’t want to. I told you about it as a reason to stay in touch.” A weak yet friendly laugh burst through a fake smile. You rose to your feet, stretching out your limbs.

Spy rose to his feet flashing you a tender smile at your forced laughter, “A good reason, indeed.” He agreed, “I hope I didn’t scare you; that wasn’t my intention.”

Well jeez, a little late for that.

“It would... _pain_ me to see you get hurt. I’m just--”

“Looking out for my best interest, I understand.” You said. “Your concern goes farther than you think it does.”

“Well then, I might have to start being a bit more loathsome. You’re starting to get to know me a little _too_ well.” He was joking, of course. His hand rested on your shoulder and you couldn’t help but have a real smile replace the old one.

Once he let go, he picked up the book giving it back to you. He walked you down the tunnel, but Spy stopped you before you could exit, “Let me check to see if it is clear for you to leave.” He used his invis watch and took a few steps into the water. An audible groan of disgust was heard somewhere in the distance and you couldn’t help but snicker.

Spy returned shortly. His dress slacks were soaked to about his knees. Every time his leg moved he cringed at the damp cloth hitting his skin. “The coast is clear for you, mon amie. Now you do not have to swim like a sewer rat back to your base.”

“Oh, wow. What a gentleman. Maybe I’ll do it out of spite now.”

He enjoyed your comeback, “I admire your humor. Get some rest now. Let me know if anything else bizarre happens.”

With a nod, you hopped onto the side of the drain. It was difficult to grab on with one hand holding the book, so you tucked it within your shirt. With one final wave and verbal farewell, you finished your climb onto the bridge.

You took the book out again. Looking at its cover didn’t spark any excitement anymore. The rough leather gliding against your thumbs made you sigh heavily. You knew Spy was right, but you couldn’t help but still be…

… Curious.

As much as you loathed clothing covered in dried blood and sewer water...

These unsolved mysteries were slowly climbing on your list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Translations:**  
>  **Mademoiselle-** Miss (feminine) [French]
> 
>  **Mon amie-** My friend (feminine) [French]
> 
>  **Fait Accompli-** Accomplished Fact (an idiom to describe an event that already happened before those affected hear about it, leaving them no option but to accept it) [French]


	18. 100 Meter Crash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rats aren't the only thing getting screwed... :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NO translations are at the end of this chapter!
> 
> Guys, guys, d-don't panic the rat screw summary isn't supposed to be sexual-- it was just too good to miss out on I'M SORRY--

You were caught off guard. The second you stepped back into the living quarters' echoes of laughter barreled down the hall. Normally, the guys would have made their separate ways this late in the evening. So it was unfamiliar to hear _this_ quantity of noise.

With great caution, you entered into the room where the howls came from. Demoman, Soldier, Engineer, Scout, Medic, and Heavy tightly circled a tiny card table. Soldier aggressively slammed his hand onto the tabletop as you walked in, causing you to jump.

“AYE! Won’t cha quit hittin’ the deck every time someone lays down an _ace?”_ Demoman barked at him.

“Yeah, literally _none_ applied to the slap rules ‘dis round. You’ve been out of cards for the last FIVE minutes!” Scout spat along.

Soldier formed a tight frown, jerking his head in their direction. “If a flying ace can bring honor to his country by shooting down enemy aircraft, _then I shall bring honor to this card game by slapping myself in through aces!”_

The group groaned at his statement, Engineer was the only one that began to laugh. “Now, boys, it’s just a card game.”

“Card game that _you’re_ winning,” Heavy mumbled just loud enough under his breath.

“Don’t be a bunch of sour grapes.” Engie sighed, turning his attention to the doorway. He grew a kind smile noticing your presence. “Oh, Bee! ‘Didn’t see you standin’ there.”

You returned a grin. “Hi, guys. You’re all up later than normal. What’s the special occasion?”

“Scout has shown us a new card game called Egyptian Rat Screw!” Medic said, “To our surprise, it is quite the exhilarating game!”

“That is... If Scout isn’t playing.” Demo covered his mouth and snickered in a drunken-manner.

Everyone’s heads turned to Scout who was lazily sprawled out on his folding chair. His eyes flickered between you and the others at the table. His arms flew up into the air in defeat. “They kicked me out after _two rounds!”_

More chuckles came from the group, including some from yourself.

“Sounds like a blast.” You commented simply.

“Care to join us? It’s a pretty simple game, there ain’t any bets on or nothin’.” Engineer offered you. You shook your head, still keeping a positive attitude.

“No, thanks… But I guess I can watch for a bit.”

The boys took your response well, they cheered to their new company.

“Speakin’ of rats... Good lordy, Bug! They got you swimmin’ with ‘em?” Engie prodded at your ragged appearance as you took a seat.

Ah yes, you haven’t forgotten. The sogginess of your socks kept as a keen reminder. The book tucked between your arm squeezed closer to your body.

“I guess you could say that,” You lied with a chuckle, “You guys were pretty busy by the bridge today.”

“Makes sense, makes sense. Well, we’ll try to walk ya through in case you decide to play.” For about a round or two the guys instructed you on the basics of the game.

The main goal is to be the final person to possess the whole deck of cards. Having to think quickly and using even quicker reflexes, it didn’t take long to realize why Scout was kicked out of the game. There would be times where the room was completely silent, all eyes locked on the stack in the center. Once one of the “slap rules” would apply, a frenzy of hands sprung to the middle to reach the cards. Each time normally ended in frustrated shouts or laughter.

After one of the rounds finished Demoman took the deck and began to shuffle. Medic leaned into his chair with a satisfactory smile, turning his head to you. “Has the administration given you details about where we are stationed next?” The rest of the gang eared in.

“I haven’t gotten too much detail about where exactly just yet,” You started, “As of right now, all I know is that we are going to be traveling towards the East Coast. We could be as far as the Ontario or Quebec borders, or to the shorelines of New England. I think Miss Pauling will inform me any day now.”

“Sweet! Wouldn’t it be awesome if we were near Boston? Oh, man! Maybe I could see Ma again… ‘Wonder how she’s doin’ sometimes...” Scout seemed excited. You couldn’t help but smile, guess everyone gets a little homesick now and then. Engineer seemed to pick up on it as well, he gave Scout a friendly pat on the back.

“I’m sure she’s doin’ mighty fine, son. I bet _all_ of our folks are.” Around the table there were a mix of somber smiles. For the first time that evening, the room fell into a different kind of silence.

Not silence of concentration on the game, or silence of tension between two who finished arguing.

It was a... dignified silence.

One where everyone had time to themselves to think about whom they cared about and missed. You did some reflecting of your own. While you’ve been old enough to live on your own for some time, it brings a sense of comfort to remember those closest to you...

Your mother was first in mind.

“Anyways… You fellas up for one last round?” Engineer called, grabbing the table’s attention. Everyone agreed and readjusted their chairs. They began playing once more.

It was down to the final two; Medic and Demoman were still in the game. The Scot was the clear-cut winner based on how many cards sat in his hand, but Medic didn’t feel like giving in. Demo’s hand rose, about to strike the deck. Before any action could be taken, a loud scratching noise came from another room. The sound dragged roughly across the floor until it suddenly ground to a stop. A loud shatter was left to punctuate the silence.

All attention was drawn to the noise. It didn’t sound like it came from the hallway where everyone’s rooms were. Rather, it sounded like it came from the exit.

Scout was the first to speak, “What was that?”

“I think we all are wondering.” Heavy had his arms crossed.

“I’ll go check out the scene; y’all stay put.” Engineer scooted his chair back and floated to his feet and disappeared down the hall.

The rest of the table, including yourself, flashed worried glances.

“I don’t think it’s anything we need to be concerned about...” Medic suggested to the group, “Maybe Sniper came in to get something? We all know how he lacks to pick up his boots when he walks…”

“Yeah, or maybe one of Soldier’s psycho-ass roadkill got out again,” Scout said.

“Lieutenant Bites is more honorable than whatever kind of roadkill _YOU_ are, boy!” Soldier retorted, his fighting spirit never left.

Engineer returned a few minutes later. A puzzled expression sprawled on his face. He had taken his hardhat off and was scratching his head.

“Did you find anything, Engie?” You asked.

“Well, kinda…” His voice hesitant, “The noise came from the hallway leadin’ to my workshop… Do any of ya remember there bein’ long scratches across the floor?”

“What do you mean…?” You already were out of your chair and making your way through the hall when finishing your question. Engineer and the others trailed close behind.

You led the pack towards the garage. Before you could even finish turning the corner you froze in your tracks. Engineer and the others bumped into your back, causing you to step further into the scene.

Just as Engie said, large white gashes were engraved into the old wooden flooring. The marks followed down the hall and stopped once it reached the workshop door.

You turned your head to look at the guys. They were as surprised as you were.

“I checked every ‘lil hidin’ space I could,” Engineer confirmed, “There’s nothin’ that I could find.”

Besides the door entering into Engineer’s workspace, a picture frame used to hang at the end of the hall. The portrait was found laying on the ground. By instinct, you walked towards it. To make sure you didn’t get cut, you picked it up by its corner to examine the picture.

It was a photograph of your entire team. Everyone’s personalities correlated to their expression of being captured on camera. Some happily grinning ear-to-ear, others surprised or disgusted at the sight of the flash.

Most of the glass had fallen out of place. Luckily, the photograph was still intact. You couldn’t help it. Seeing everyone all together, it made you smile.

…. But it quickly faded.

For somebody had scratched out where you once stood.

*******

You kept tossing and turning.

While it was a hotter night than normal, it was that scratching noise that made you restless.

It was like someone was dragging a shovel across the floor. The high-pitched metal ring against the splintering boards allowed goosebumps to plague your skin. Worst of all, it felt like a direct threat.

It _had_ to be.

Why else would you be the only one scratched out in the picture?

And those marks…

At first glance, Scout’s take on it being due to Soldier’s raccoons made a lot of sense. But upon further inspection, it showed that the trail of the gashes was quite wide; the indents made were deep, too. So it left you and the others quite stumped.

By that point, everyone called it an evening. Now here you lay, not knowing nor bothering to check the clock to see how much time had passed. Sleep was the one thing you craved, so you tried to set your worries aside and shut your eyes.

The silence of your room loitered for a while. Any thoughts remained blank, like an empty dark canvas. Any sense of movement was gone.

It was almost like a moment of… _peace._

Small flickers of light appeared in the distance. You still did not move. Yet, the space began to fill with color. Warm shades of red, yellow, and brown bloomed into sight. Quiet, yet respectful, chatter buzzed in the air. Slow melodic strings from various instruments sang in the background.

You blinked and observed the scene. Oceans of elegant attire to suit both ladies and gentlemen of various shapes and sizes filled the floor. You tried to get a look at their faces, yet a white blur covered any features they may have possessed.

It was quite the odd site, but graceful at the same time. Walking forward, your footsteps boomed through the large banquet hall, being the loudest thing in the room. Anxiously, you checked to see if anyone else took notice, but no attention was drawn towards you.

You ventured onwards through the crowd. The music is what caught your interest, so your objective was to find the group that was creating it. There were times you needed to squeeze through a circle of people; you did so followed with an apology. Nobody spoke or even looked your way.

This room was a lot bigger than you thought. No matter how far you traveled, you never seemed to reach the end. The music began to fade.

Something odd began to mimic each pace you took. It was subtle at first, but the more you walked the more present it became. The sound was almost like a forceful drag on the hard floor.

Unsettled by the new noise, you picked up the pace. More and more people stood in your way as your once timid way of sliding past became more frantic. The noise kept up with you, becoming louder and faster to match your speed.

Its trail wasn’t too far behind you. You turned your head back, but nothing was there. You began to huff, breaking into a sprint.

“Help! … HELP!” You cried out. A dainty floating skirt caught your eye. You tugged at it in hopes to spark the owner’s attention. They just stood there, not acknowledging your existence.

Cry after cry for help was ignored. No matter who you grabbed onto, no matter who you squeezed, no matter the number of gloves, watches, or other accessories you snagged, nobody would listen. The scratching began to hurt your ears.

When you squeezed your eyes shut, a firm body halted you to a stop. Two firm hands grabbed onto your shoulders. They became gentle once having a proper hold onto you. You looked at the figure, urgency in your eyes.

There Spy gazed at you, surprise etched into his expression.

“Spy! Thank the Lord!” You sighed, looking from where you came, “There- there’s this noise… Aaand they keep following me, and--”

“You took it.”

“Wait… What?”

Your attention was back at the Frenchman, the look of worry replaced with one of apathy. His grip on your shoulders tightened, beginning to hurt.

“Spy, you’re not making any sense!” You winced at his grasp, “This place doesn’t feel right. We need to get out of here! Quick!”

You tried to release yourself from his hold, but you couldn’t move. Whatever was following you now stood mere inches away, it's dark aura fresh on your back. For a moment did you blink, only to see that Spy’s face was gone. It was struck out like everyone else’s in the room.

His torso began to lean close to your shoulder. Now hanging right at ear level. An unfamiliar and horrifically raspy voice crawled from deep within.

  
_“The ignorant have a price to pay.”_

  


The hands on your shoulders pushed you back with a forceful shove.

Just before you could hit the ground, you violently jerked your leg forward. Heart still thumping rapidly, you took notice that you were still in bed.

Now fully awake, you took in the atmosphere of your dark bedroom. The heat trapped between your body and the blankets were at its peak of intolerance.

The air still was not quiet. You clung onto the blanket, realizing what it was.

The scratching didn’t stop.

And it wasn’t too far from the foot of your bed.

You heard the wardrobe doors open only moments later. The sweats were insufferable and you couldn’t take it anymore. It left you no other choice but to release the tight grip that you had on the covers.

The frame of your bed covered up that corner of the room.

With a shaky breath, you supported yourself to sit up-right.

Moonlight spilled onto the floor.

A person covered head to toe in black was searching through your belongings. Their movements, slow and without caution. You could barely see their hand movements. They haven’t acknowledged that you were awake.

What do you do?

With a shift of their hip, a shine pierced through the dark. Your wandering eyes traveled south to find the source. On their waist hung a cloth belt that slacked.

Weighing it down, the long, bright shine of a machete caught the moon’s shine. Unknown stains covered the edge. Its blade slumped to the ground, angled just enough to have its sharp end be dragged around carelessly.

Rummaging noises faded and all was silent once more. You slid back under your blanket in a quiet panic, eyes still hooked on where they stood. The scratching began once more.

They were drawing closer, observing the nightstand. The blanket hovered under your eyes. Their hand rested on the handle of the machete. It appeared that they were _intending_ to shove it down and leave marks on the floor.

Who in their right mind…?

There wasn’t much on your nightstand. Only your alarm clock, a lamp, and your book about Australium. Immediately, they grabbed for the book and flipped through some of the pages in silence. They nodded their head upon their findings and slipped the book onto their belt.

You fought with all your might to not even make the slightest hint of a peep, refusing to let them leave your sight. Their eyes wandered in the small space until they turned to look at you. They were as alarmed to see you staring up at them.

Their hand was immediately drawn to their machete. It was raised into the air to strike your head. First instinct was rolling yourself off the bed and onto the floor.

The raider had already mounted your bed once you got on your feet. You hopped out of the way as they swiped at you again. Retreating to the opposite side of the room, their freakish figure watching your every step. You finally allowed yourself to scream.

The door was only feet away. Was it safe to make it? They made another attempt to hit you, and you ended up backing into your wardrobe. Your exit now facing opposite sides of where you stood. Second options, second options!

The window?

No!

You were too high up. You’d break a limb trying to land that height.

Your thoughts almost cost your head. You had to deflect yet another swipe to the face by ducking. As a consequence, the machete got stuck in the drywall.

You took it as an opportunity. While they were focused on trying to tear it out, you sprung for their legs and knocked them to the ground. They let out a loud grunt, and two different objects clattered to the floor.

Their shins were weighed down by your body. You propped yourself up to see what fell. With the moon’s help, the bright shine of _your_ Australium sat on its side.

Jumping to grab it offered enough time for the other person to reach it as well. The two of you were locked in a battle of tug-of-war.

“Give it back!” You shouted, starting to lose grip on the bar.

They didn’t respond.

Their grasp shook the bar aggressively, causing you to let go and fall on your back. Before you could sit up, the person was already making a break for the door. You scrambled to your feet.

“HEY!” You exclaimed loudly, echoing through the silent building. Your steps weren’t too far behind their’s, but you couldn’t close the gap.

“WHOA!” 

Down the hall, Scout suddenly appeared being rammed right into the wall while passing the person. He noticed you were in hot pursuit.

“Backer! What the hell is goin’ on?!” Scout yanked your arm, just as energized as you.

“They tried to kill me!” You pointed in the direction where they fled, Scout’s head following your hand.

Both of you were on his trail, Scout starting to dash up ahead.

The person fled through Engineer's garage. As you made it to the door, you witnessed Scout grab onto the person and tackled them down. Scout struggled to pin them as they squirmed beneath his grip. They tried grabbing onto whatever they could find on the ground.

“Alright, you sonuvabitch! Let’s see who ya _really_ are!” Scout moved his grip onto the top of the fabric that covered their face. The person’s hand still roamed but was able to reach further without Scout’s arm on them.

They grabbed a large rock and violently swung it right onto the boy’s face, causing him to recoil. But Scout wasn’t finished.

Your book was still slung onto their belt. He grabbed onto the cover and tried to pull the person towards him. The book’s spine tore, causing pages to spill out. Scout lost his grip and the person ran to the opening arch.

You caught up to where Scout sat and helped him up. A stroke of dirt and a nasty-looking scratch was near his eye. You were about to ask him if he was okay, but his focus was on the thief.

“He’s gettin’ away!” Scout slipped away and made one final stretch to reach the masked person. They turned the arch and were out of sight. You were right behind Scout.

A deep sound of an engine jumped into action. Scout’s determination ran him right to the opening. You saw a large vehicle rushing down the road that Scout was heading straight for.

“SCOUT!”

You caught up to grab the collar of his nightshirt. You yanked him back. He was millimeters away from being flattened by a roaring semi-truck.

Papers rained from the sky around the two of you as the horn of the truck faded into the night. Both of you had fallen onto the ground. Flutters of sheets and the sounds of catching your breaths filled the air.

“Holy shit…!” Scout strained out.

“Are you okay?” You huffed concerned, “Oh my God! I’m so sorry, Scout! I almost got you killed--”

“That… was... _awesome!"_

“It was _what_ now?!”

“What in God’s name happened out here?!” A voice yelled from behind. Scout and yourself turned to see that Engineer and the rest of the guys flocked outside in their pajamas. They either looked just as shocked as he, or pissed off to be so abruptly woken.

“There was this guy! Or dude! Or-- ... _thing!_ They came runnin’ around in the base and tried to killed Backer!” Scout pointed a finger at you while explaining to the group. Some rose a brow.

“It’s true!” You jumped in, “They came into my room with a machete. They-- they got away with the Australium and we--”

“Chased ‘im out here to stop ‘em but the asshole hit me in the face and _got away!_ Then there was this HUUUUGE truck that came bargin’ down the street and almost squashed me like a fuckin’ pea! It was insane!!” Scout’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

If anything, you were worried that rock did something to his brain. That is-- if there wasn’t already something wrong with it.

Classic Scout.

The rest of the guys stared at the two of you in awe. How are you supposed to respond to that? Engineer stepped closer to observe the boy’s eye. He turned to you with a drop-dead serious look, “Besides Scout’s eye, did any of you get hurt?”

“No, I don’t think so.” You confirmed. Your safety was only an afterthought.

The Australium, the force driving this mystery, the reason why you pursued them in the first place, was gone.

The book, your only piece of evidence, was scattered for the wind to blow away.

It was trashed, the entire front entrance was utterly trashed. The thought stressed you out knowing you will have to be the one to clean it up later that day. You rubbed your eyes exhaustedly. The day, if it was past midnight, already sucked. Everyone was going to be in a bad mood, you could feel it.

A small wind passed by. Dragging sounds of the papers tumbled with the gust. You felt one wrap around your ankle, driving you to stare at it.

Plucking it off the ground, you flipped it over so you could see its content.

Everything froze.

Was this a... masquerade ball?

Why would a truck be carrying flyers like this? Or was this the person who got away from the base? You cocked a brow at the paper. Over and over again, you took note of its details.

This detail...

Could it be...?

  
_"Martin Campbell?" You questioned, "... I'm trying to remember if I have heard that name before."_

_**... Campbell.** _

_That will have to be a name you remember in the future._

  


You bit your tongue.

October seventeenth isn't too far away now. To think of it, it's about the same time when the team is going to be leaving the base.

Upstate New York, huh?

You turned back to the street and eyed the direction where the truck traveled. Demoman made his way to you with a tired look, "Let's get inside, lass. It's early in the mornin'. We've got work tomorrow."

"Yeah... I'll be there in a second," You nodded, still hyper fixated on the road.

You basked in the moment and knew what needed to be done.

No matter the time, no matter the cost.

You **_needed_** to get into that party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Gretsch](https://unctuoustf2.tumblr.com/post/622403166714101760/scout-loves-paris-update-please-check-out-the) for giving me tips to customize the flyer! Without your help, it wouldn't look as awesome as it does!! :D


	19. Luck Of The Mist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who likes waterfalls?! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NO translations are at the end of this chapter!
> 
> HOLY CRAP GUYS HELLO!!!!
> 
> You have no idea how excited I am to be posting once again. It's been a while, hasn't it? NO COFFIN CAN CONTAIN ME!
> 
> Well, I was aware of that. So I thought it wouldn't do any justice to just post a chapter...
> 
> SO WHY NOT TWO??
> 
> That's right! **Double** the _Double Backer_ , baby!!! 
> 
> Honestly, I am super hyped to share these next few chapters. Anyways, I'll stop rambling.
> 
> I hope this was worth the wait! :)

"Is everybody here?" Miss Pauling's voice hummed through static.

The box television in the living space served as a monitor. Everyone watched the woman on the other side attentively. You held a tiny wireless microphone while doing a head-count as verification.

"Yep, you're good to go." You confirmed speaking into the device.

Miss Pauling beamed into the camera followed by a small wave. "Hey, guys! Hope you're holding up well! 2Fort hasn't been rough on you, has it?"

Nobody answered.

"Uh-huh... Anyways, great news! Plans have been finalized and we've got your next location." She paused to grab a stack of papers and skim through them. Plucked from the pile, Pauling displayed photos to the camera. The video quality wasn't the greatest, buts bearable enough to see the images. One showed a gorgeous skyline of a city, another with a ginormous waterfall, and the final with an intimidatingly large house.

"We've got a big mission," Pauling readjusted her glasses, "Like-- _**huge**_ this time. Listen closely." Her eyes floated from one side of the screen to the other. Nobody said a word, waiting for her to continue.

"We will be sending you to Upstate New York; a region between Buffalo and Niagara Falls. There is a fort stationed near the border, but you guys will be spending the weekend in the city. There's a very... _special_ event you'll be attending."

"You don't mean...?" You mumbled into the microphone. Miss Pauling cracked a smile from her serious tone.

"That's right, Backer. You guys will be attending the _Night in Disguise Masquerade."_

Silence tension filled the room. The guys were just as educated on the event as you were. Flyers left behind hung around the building, reused as scrap paper, or burnt if someone made a fire. Hell, one hung in your room. Everyone has seen those words more often than they desired.

"Miss Pauling," Spy cut in, "I do not mean to sound rude, but we are all thinking it is quite... _odd_ that this is your choice of mission for us."

You walked over and handed him the microphone so Miss Pauling could hear him better. "I'm assuming Backer and Scout have talked to you about the situation?"

"Yes, I'm aware of what happened." Pauling assured, "We're still investigating the case. The truck has yet to be traced, and we are looking into who could have been the person to break in."

Scout and yourself spoke to her about what happened the next morning after the incident. You were doubtful telling her at first, considering all the strangeness in communication that has been happening between you and the Administration. Though, her reaction seemed surprised by the occurrence, giving you and Scout assurance that she and "a few others" would 'jump right on the case.'

"I can guarantee you, plans about this mission were made before the incident. It all happens to be a very weird coincidence." Her tone was cold again. "It's very, _very_ important that you all hear this. This is going to need to be a team-wide effort. Understand?"

The guys and yourself nodded. Everyone seemed to lean into their chair so they could see and hear Miss Pauling better. The woman in purple readjusted one of her bangs before continuing.

"While attending the party that night, there is a special package you guys are trying to find." Another picture of a fine leather case sat in front of the camera for a moment. "It's allegedly somewhere within the manor. So it's up to you all to find it."

"Right, right: Go in, blast some brains out, get the fancy box, and get outta there! Sounds like a normal mission to me, Miss P!" Scout said nonchalantly.

"That's where we're shaking things up, Scout." She flashed a tiny smile. "Here's the challenge: You guys have to get the package without alarming anyone else in the building. Not the owner, not the guards, and definitely none of the guests. Some of you won't even have your primary weapons with you."

The room erupted into fits of anger.

"MISS PAULING! How am I supposed to show these snobby-nosed aristocrats what TRUE American willpower is without having the POWER with me!?" Soldier damn-near leaped off the couch and grabbed onto the TV. 

"I don't think _all_ of us are fit for this job." You heard Sniper grumble to your side. He had his face tucked away in his hat.

"Guys, _**GUYS!**_ Settle down!" Miss Pauling exclaimed. It took some mediating, but with the help of the calmer mercenaries, you simmered the crowd down.

"Look, we know this kind of thing isn't everybody's style. This is still a mission. This is still your job. It's just for one night, you'll survive." Her scolding was parent-like. A sea of displeased faces rolled through the group.

"We will get back on track with typical missions not long after. For now, think of this operation like... _a tiny break._ You're going to be off base boundaries, that's exciting, isn't it?"

No one said anything again. Miss Pauling groaned. "You guys will be leaving Thursday night, Friday we have something planned, and Saturday night is the party. Backer, I will give you travel details soon. Other than that, you're all dismissed."

The guys didn't take another second. Everyone left the room to go do their own thing. You hung back.

Since that night the thought has been drilling in your brain like an earworm. This was your chance. All you could do was ask, right?

_No matter the time, no matter the cost._

_You **needed** to get into that party._

You clutched onto the microphone before building the confidence to speak. "Miss Pauling?"

"Something you need, Backer?" Her voice was significantly friendlier compared to talking with the group. Her head picked up from whatever she was doing.

"By any chance," The lump in your throat formed. You swallowed hard, speaking again.

"By any chance... Do you think I can be apart of this mission?"

*******

Typically, anticipation like this made the days drag by. Thursday night came quicker than you expected. At noon that Friday, the team had already settled into a hotel outside of downtown Buffalo. Miss Pauling met you in the lobby.

She seemed to push for a quicker pace of getting everybody settled in. You were the only one who had a room to yourself, which sparked jealous attitudes from some of the others. When everything was in order, everyone packed into a large van that drove along the interstate highway.

Time flew by chatting with the others. Out of the corner of your eye, the van sped past a large green sign:

**Welcome**

**To**

**City Of**

**Niagara Falls**

The large bridge stretched over a body of water. Passing over it, the van rolled to a stop. Another sign read: _Niagara Falls State Park._ Miss Pauling got the group's attention as they stretched their legs.

"So you know how I told you guys we had something planned today? This is it! We have about fifteen minutes before the boat tour. Let's go check it out!" You and some of the others walked together to the waterfall's rim. For how lovely of a day it was, there weren't many tourists.

The boom of the water echoed from the base of the plunge pool. From the top, it was breathtaking. A large overhang defined the edge of the rock, consumed by a fountain of mist. Below, the water was crystal blue.

You joined Scout and Pyro; they were hanging all over a pair of coin-operated binoculars. "Yo, Book Brain! Come take a look at this!" Scout stepped back so you could see. Looking in, the binoculars focused on a large nest. It was tucked behind boulders at the bottom of the falls. Three big birds popped up from inside, white fuzz covered the top of their heads. Another much larger bird swooped by and landed on the outline of the nest. It was a bald eagle family!

"Wow! Good eye, Scout!" You exclaimed looking back at the boy. He gave a prideful smile.

"I don't see how acting like a group of tourists has any relevance to the mission." Your team's Spy stood behind you. He had placed a fresh cigarette into his mouth, eyeing your trio.

"Geez, you don't _always_ have to rain on everyone's parade, Spy!" Scout spat, "Lighten up a little, will ya?"

"I think Miss Pauling wanted to do something nice for us." You mused, your tone more polite than Scout's. Spy flashed you an appreciative smile because of it.

"You're totally right! Yeah, ... today doesn't have anything to do with the mission." Miss Pauling must have overheard the conversation. "I just thought I could've been _a little_ serious about this being a small break. The Administrator said something like this for the day was fine. It just can't happen often."

"Wait, does this count as your one day off for the year?!" Scout seemed to panic, drawing closer to the girl. Miss Pauling hobbled a few steps back as he approached.

"Uhm... Nope! I'm technically still at work being with you guys. I'm not sticking around long, though. I need to be back in New Mexico by tomorrow night." Miss Pauling cut herself off and glanced at her watch, "Hey guys! Let's head to the boarding area, our tour is soon."

Miss Pauling led you and the rest to the observation tower. From there, you boarded a tour boat called the _Maid of the Mist._ Slight disapproval came from Pauling when she found out the boat provided blue colored ponchos for the guests to wear. Your group stayed close together amongst the other visitors on the boat. You eventually sailed past another ferry, only the passengers on theirs wore read and a Canadian flag flew at the stern. Everyone waved to each other while passing by.

Mist from the water consumed the boat. Winds of great strength ran through you, leaving a chill to travel up your spine. Thunderous roars of running water drew closer by the second.

From above, the falls towered overhead like a giant. Endless tons of water crashed into the endless river. A bright, bold rainbow sprouted from the stream and shot into the sunny skies. Mother Nature was posing right in front of you, and she stood high and mighty.

"Isn't it neat?" Being so mesmerized by the scene in front of you, you didn't notice that Miss Pauling had joined your side. She leaned against the boat's rail, her eyes never leaving the water.

"Yeah... it's something." You agreed; your joy running high.

She didn't say much at first, still training her focus on the falls. Her impatience grew apparent through her fidgeting. It didn't last long. "Do you remember when you asked us if you could get involved with the mission?" 

"Of course." Your full attention was on Pauling. She left it up in the air when you first brought it up. The look on her face seemed doubtful, but she said _"they"_ would think about it. Approval or not, strategies on how to get in played in your mind. If you were to ever catch a break, you'd receive the answer you want to hear.

"We gave it some thought as we promised. It took a lot of negotiation..." Her eyes shot your way, her smile growing bigger, "but I got some good news--"

The boat dipped forward abruptly. Water rose up and into the ferry; drenching everyone exposed. Amused screams echoed around the area. Looking over at the guys, they were all teasing Spy. He was verbalizing his irritation to his newly-wet sleeves. Miss Pauling and yourself gave each other a look before snickering.

Miss Pauling shook her head, "Why am I not surprised?"

You rolled your eyes with a long sigh.

"But in all seriousness, congratulations Backer," She dug a slip of paper from the pocket of her dress. The small signature began to dampen making contact with the clammy environment.

"You're in on the mission."

*******

You squirmed at the air squeezing out from your lungs. Letting out a small gasp, you clutched onto the bedpost in front of you. It was a foreign feeling, and it terrified you.

"Please hold still, dear." An elderly woman's voice sighed. "Are you in pain?"

"No," You breathed, "Just... caught by surprise."

The concept of a corset was fascinating; how they manage to change the shape of the body with only a few strings. Commonly seen in magazines and newspapers growing up, it appealed to women your age... but you never felt the need to use one. "New-found" studies even reported that a corset has potential dangers if worn too tight. Besides, when would you would ever need to wear one?

The irony in that question sat before you: the laces that sat in the hands of some old woman.

"Hunching yourself over like that can cause serious injury. You may hold onto something, but please keep your back straight." Her voice was stern, yet held a motherly undertone.

"Right, I apologize." You straightened out. Silk tickled your sides as the corset loosened. You grabbed the post again. With force, the corset squeezed you like a snake bite.

Immediately, your posture improved. Anything from below the bosom was damn-near smothered; you couldn't feel a thing. After the final tug, a clammy hand touched your shoulder. 

"Go take a look in the mirror."

You shuffled to the vanity mirror on the wall. Startling you, an unfamiliar figure in the mirror stared back at you. _... Does your body need to be shaped like this?_ You shuddered wanting to look away, but you couldn't help but gawk.

_It's just for an evening._

A gentle knock came from the front door of the room, "Am I okay to come in?" Miss Pauling's voice muffled through the wood. You separated yourself from the mirror to unlock the door for her.

"Oh! It looks like you got the corset fitted already." Pauling beelined to the bathroom, turning on the lights to find nothing but toiletry items on the counter. She seemed confused. "Has the cosmetologist not arrived yet?"

"I don't think so."

"Well, that's going to be an issue if she isn't here in the next--" Pauling glanced at the clock, "-- eight minutes." She sighed in an exhausted manner, swiping some hair that fell from her ear. "Well... I guess that gives me a good chance to show you these then." Miss Pauling slipped a miniature box out from her pocket. A glimmer caught in the bathroom light as you stood by her side.

A pair of elegant silver earrings stared back. Two tiny black balls sat in the center of the jewels. The design screamed Victorian era. 

"Pretty sweet, huh?" She glanced your way.

"They're beautiful..." You whispered. They were extremely well-kept. You were nervous to think about taking them out. Miss Pauling giggled at your reaction.

"They're going to fit perfectly with your dress. But that's not all. See the black part in the middle?" She pointed to the balls. Her finger gently spun one of the orbs so it could catch the bathroom light. There was a reflective surface. You nodded in response.

"These are specially designed cameras made just for the mission. Regardless, you _**need**_ to wear them when you go tonight." Emphasis carried in her words.

It was never difficult to take orders, especially in a work environment...

... Yet, this one didn't settle with you right.

"This is your first active mission, so we wanted to make some extra... _precautions."_

Precautions?

"I see..." Your doubt still weighed heavy.

Pauling placed the cover back on the earrings and handed them to you. Another knock came from outside the room. Miss Pauling peeped through the hole in the door, "Oh, it's the cosmetologist. I'll let you wrap things up here. See ya in a bit!" She opened the door to greet the woman on the other side and left.

The young woman took Pauling's place. She greeted you kindly and scattered her tools and kits on any open surface she could find. Aware of the time crunch, she went to work on your features.

Hair came first. Multiple curls cluttered on the open table you sat next to. The overwhelming scent of hairspray stunk up the room. Nudes, pinks, roses, and other natural colors of cremes and powders were applied to your skin. You may have done your hair and makeup in the past, but you were dying to see the results of the artist.

Occasionally, the artist would call over the older woman to check her progress. The corset woman's face would curl into a smile. The woman wasn't one for small talk, so you sat and thought about everything that may happen tonight. If you got the chance to talk with Mr. Campbell, what would you even say?

Would you talk about his book? The discovery of the flyers? 

By chance does he know about their break-in? The person dressed head to toe in black wielding a machete? How your life was at stake?

Would you talk about Australium _at all?_

What about your last name? It was in his book, so he has to know the answers.

These thoughts grew more morbid than the next. Shaking them away, you tried to focus on the future. It's in the past now.

... In the past...

You must have lost track of time; the stylist poked you from your daze, "Ready for your dress?" Her voice was shrill, yet cheerful.

"Sure." You were barely audible, still feeling the stun from spacing out.

The chair spun so you faced the door. On a mannequin structure, a silvery puff hung lazily on its frame. You couldn't make out its exact shape; something about that made you anxious. What if it didn't fit right or it looked strange on you?

"I'll help fit you into it, dear." The old woman offered.

Parts of the dress that you thought would be tight never were. Either it fitted perfectly, or you were immune to the squeeze because of the corset. The mirror was behind you, so you couldn't look at yourself as the woman did her work. You just patiently waited.

It didn't take long at all. She called the cosmetologist over for final input. Both women had wide dopey smiles. Each girl took your hand and spun you to face the mirror. You cupped your mouth.

Bright silver sparkles shimmered in various spots in the lighting. No matter what angle it hit the dress, it fit the area perfectly. Its skirt draped to the floor in a manner that was elegant, but not difficult to walk in. Even the sleeves were functional. The bright gray silk wasn't gaudy, and finally seeing your hair and makeup everything came together harmoniously.

To say the least, you looked like a princess.

You _felt_ like a princess.

"You look absolutely stunning." One of the women complimented, you couldn't tell who because you were fighting to not cry. You didn't want to ruin the makeup already!

You couldn't stop smiling. "Thank you... You two make a great team. I don't remember the last time I've looked and felt this gorgeous." 

"Honey, you've _always_ looked gorgeous. All we did was slap a dress and some paint on your face." The old woman encouragingly shook your arm. This sparked everyone to laugh. "Come along now, the rest may be waiting."

*******

You focused on the mask that sat in your lap. The radio played in the background. It was a song you couldn't recognize; Scout kept talking over it.

Miss Pauling surprised the team with a limousine rental. It was a nice touch, but everyone was packed in like sardines. You felt bad for having parts of your dress spill into anyone else's legroom.

Looking around, you found it pleasing to see the guys in their costumes. Each merc had a unique Victorian-era themed outfit, each had a complimentary mask to cover different portions of their face. As unprofessional as it was, you caught yourself feeling flushed seeing some of them in formal attire. Shamefully, you pushed the thought to the wayside.

Spy cleared his throat. _"Lady,_ gentlemen, if I may have your undivided attention?"

After a small nudge from Engineer to quiet Scout, all focus was on him.

"Tonight is crucial that we keep a low profile. Hence why Miss Pauling put me in charge," You noticed some eye rolls from the group, they just _knew_ he wanted to include that last bit. "You all are at least carrying something on you, yes?"

The guys began to rustle into the open parts of their outfits. Each one had some sort of concealed firearm or weapon. Concealed by your skirt were your holster and gun. You motioned to grab for it but stopped once everyone beat you to it. 

"Excellent. Now, we do as Miss Pauling said; We do not want to disrupt the harmony of the party. We are to act dainty and not put ourselves out there. Understood?" Everyone nodded their heads. Spy blew some smoke from his cigarette before continuing. "Keep in mind that the Administration will be watching. ... Backer?"

You perked up. "Yeah?"

"What was the item Miss Pauling gave you with the cameras?"

"Oh, the earrings?" You pointed to one of the balls that hung down. "Miss Pauling kept saying it was important to wear these."

He took another drag. "So it will be important that you stick with one of us at all times?"

His tone confused you. Was that a question or a statement? Either way, the idea made you want to sink and disappear into your chair. This "special package" that they are trying to find isn't the top priority on your list. You raised a brow, "Are you asking me or telling me or...?"

Spy chuckled a little. "No, consider it an order."

You fought back all urges to groan. Instead, you focused on the trees and other woodland features zoom by. An occasional lamp post would be present, flickering on as dusk was in its final stage.

Eventually, the limo slowed to a stop. Large stone walls stretched into the trees from your side of the limo. The vehicle wasn't idle for long until you felt the jerk of rolling forward again. The black iron doors opened up to the other side of the wall.

 _A gated community._ You weren't surprised, based on the lavished style of the Australium book and the invitations. You were nervous, now more than ever. It was annoying. Were nerves going to get in your way all night?

Everything became more detailed and luxurious as you drove by. Houses, no, _manors_ completed with fences and gates of their own; the lamp posts that shined the streets in the early parts of the night; rolling dark clouds that loomed on the horizon, threatening for a storm; even the trees and bushes that have grown discolored and their leaves began to fall. That familiar shade of street-sign green poked from the corner.

_**Valentine Dr.** _

The paved road kept traveling into the trees. No houses sat on this street; the lamposts that shined began to disappear. In the distance, a large cul-de-sac ended the blacktop. On the hill that rose above the street sat a large ravishing home.

The limo stopped at the property gates. The chauffeur greeted everyone, opening the door. Your entire team, including yourself, spilled out like circus clowns. Everyone's focus was on the gas lanterns that lit the path to the doors.

A line laid in front of you. Groups ranging from couples to sizes of over twelve waited patiently. At the top of the stairs displayed an excessively large wooden door. A strong wind blew past, you crossed your arms to preserve what little heat you had. Luckily, the line was moving fast.

Reaching the doors, two burly gentlemen sharply dressed obstructed the entrance. You handed the men at the door some papers, ones that legitimized why the group was there. They examined them before stepping to the side. Gigantuous metal door handles sat in front of you.

A gloved hand made itself present on your shoulder.

"Are you ready, mademoiselle Backer?" Spy asked you with a hint of caution.

You didn't look away from the door and took a deep breath. "As ready as I'll ever be."

"Do not leave our sight. If you feel something is wrong, tell us so we can get you somewhere safe."

"Right, just as we planned."

His hand left your shoulder.

"Go ahead," he pressed, "Open the doors."

You settled your palms onto the cold, dark, wooden frame. With a mighty push, warm yellow light poured onto the steps. A stroke of determination conquered you. It was the determination to keep digging, it was the determination to find Campbell, and it was the determination to end this mystery. To do so, you took the first steps from the _October 17th_ cold.


	20. The Marauder's Masquerade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna be an interesting evening... :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NO translations are at the end of this chapter!
> 
> Ah yes, part two of my Back-To-Backer special (get it??? hahahahahaha........ ok I'm done).
> 
> If you thought the Austrian Bar Arc was a work-out, get ready for this!! This chapter is a bit bulkier, and it's only the beginning! Get comfy and enjoy!

The refined entrance fascinated the team. Stepping inside, velvet darker than blood lined the hallway. Lighting from the entrance chandelier is what prevented the room from being pitch black. Irritation from the people behind indicated that your party was in the way. Your team's Spy picked up on this and urged everyone to keep moving.

As the group moved down the hallways, the echoes of shoes traveled with. Floors made of hard tile held an aged design in the middle. With no windows present, dim lights clung to the walls. Deeper within, the sound of voices grew louder.

A shiver crawled up your spine.

You were having a sense of déjà vu. The atmosphere did not sit with you right. It made you feel wildly apprehensive. As a precaution, your once hasty walk slowed so you herded with the others. This action met with self-disgust. Nothing has happened, yet you coward into the group as if something _would._

Your group made it to the end of the hallway. Its opening was large, bigger than any other hallway. The lights shifted from a warm yellow to a light cream. Chiseled marble, thin gold paints, and polished bright wooden floors sprawled into a large ballroom. Chatter consumed any silence there once was. For how large the space was, it was packed to the brim with people.

Everyone, including Spy, halted in front of the opening. Through their masks, you could see their eyes shift around the room, unsure what to do. You grabbed your wrist nervously, waiting for an order. 

Spy continued to assess the scene before clearing his throat. "Alright... We were expecting this event to be large. The plan has not changed. Find the package _and do not get into trouble._ Go in groups if you wish."

Immediately, Scout playfully jumped to your side and bumped your shoulder. "Whaddya say, Backie? We can get this party _really_ started!"

You chuckled at him. At that time, you were considering sticking around Scout. It may be fun! Out of the rest of the guys, he would be the most laid-back. The only challenge offered was keeping him in check: Making sure he doesn't make a fool of himself or the team.

Spy frowned at his comment. "Scout, out of every man here, you are the primary one I have blacklisted from accompanying Backer."

"Awe, what?! C'mon Spy! You're ruining my fun here!" He crossed his arms.

"There lies your problem. We're not here to have _fun._ We have work to do. And taking my advice, keeping the two of you separated offers the least amount of problems."

"Okay wise guy, who do you want me goin' with then?"

"Sniper could use some companionship. Go with him instead."

"Fine, whatever. As long as it's anybody but _you."_

"It's funny that you say that. I was thinking the exact same thing."

A grunt came from Scout as he stormed off with Sniper. You turned back to Spy, "Who should I go with then?" You asked.

"If you'd like, Spy, Backer can stick around with me." Engineer approached the two of you offering a kind smile. Spy looked appreciative.

"This I will allow. I was planning to go on my own, anyway. Thank you, Laborer."

Engineer nodded as a reply. One moment the RED Spy stood there, the next he disappeared. You turned to Engie, wondering what to do next.

"Let's scope out the area. It might be smart if we have a meeting place in case we split up." He pointed to the perimeter of the room.

"Sounds like a plan." You said. He and yourself wiggled past the outer crowd of people and towards the center floor. Music played by a small orchestra floated in the room. Their melodic strings rang to the ceiling. That same cream and dark red paint curled into complex patterns on the walls. Near each corner of the room, circles contained an artist's interpretation of Heaven. Baby-faced angels observed the crowd below.

Scents of strong perfumes, aged wood, and expensive liquor smothered the air. With each group you passed, conversations varied from speaking of luxuries they possessed, or the luxuries they _wished_ to possess. Undeniably, money was the hot-topic everyone couldn't get enough of. You fiddled with the balls of your earrings.

"Ouch!" You cried, immediately releasing the metal. The tips of your fingers still buzzed even after letting go. Something had electrocuted you. 

A reminder washed over you, cameras were still in the earrings.

Curiously, you grasped onto the other earring with the opposite hand. It twirled around until moments later releasing a shock. You pulled back. 

So, it was on purpose.

This made your blood boil. Not only did you have people watching over your shoulder, but they punished you for not being okay with it. Were you some kind of animal?

Engineer was laughing. "I take this ain't your crowd either?"

Over your frustration, you offered a weak smile. "Yeah, even with all the prep they gave us, I feel like I won't fit in."

"Don't you worry, that's what most of us are thinkin'. You saw Sniper, right? Poor boy, looked miserable the second he was sent to get ready." A simple mask replaced his goggles, making it easier to read his face. "Hell, Spy's probably the only one who could enjoy himself and still fit in."

"Haha... I guess you're right."

The finale from the orchestra ended, causing those listening to stop and clap. They faced the opposite side of the ballroom. Engineer and you looked at each other again. "Let's go check 'em out." He suggested. You followed in compliance.

He wavered you through the center of the room. Your attention was all over the place. With every tailored tuxedo and ball gown, you tried to find some kind of hint that would lead you to the person you were looking for.

_Oceans of elegant attire to suit both ladies and gentlemen of various shapes and sizes filled the floor. You tried to get a look at their faces, yet a white blur covered any features they may have possessed._

You were in this exact situation before.

These walls had no end. You swore you heard loud scratches on the floor behind you, but it was too noisy to be sure. On the topic of noise, the orchestra suddenly sounded _terrible._ Slow high-pitched strings did not mix well with the overjoyed (and honestly, slightly annoying) ramble of party-goers. Everything began to rock, making you dizzy. Wanting to throw up, you concluded that whatever was happening was a sign. In the center, so exposed...

It didn't feel safe.

Stumbling, you strolled in front of Engineer to block his path.

"On second thought," You swallowed down the vomit accumulating in your throat. "Let's go find where the drinks are... I'm a little parched."

Engie looked surprised but flashed a smile. "Sure thing! I think I saw a table over this way." At his words, your vision sharpened. His path changed to another side of the room, one where the wall was in sight. You sighed in relief, the pressure rising from your chest.

At the refreshment table, you eased yourself with a glass of water. Engineer idled next to you, starting to observe any other hallways that led out of the ballroom. You watched every person and group passing by like a hawk.

A serving lid dropped onto its tray nearby. The man holding it had a bitter look on his face. Another man similarly dressed as the first stood close. He held a tray, too. One man nudged the other with his elbow, indicating for him to follow. They came in your direction; their mouths were moving.

With them growing closer, you could hear their voices more clearly. You averted your focus to the water glass as if super intrigued by its taste. "Excuse us, ma'am." The grumpy one mumbled. They were looking at the table behind you.

"Oh, I apologize." You offered, stepping to the side so they could pass. The two men began to fill their trays with champagne glasses. While pouring, they shared an intense silence.

"These glasses better not go quick otherwise we're fucked." The first spoke.

"No, _you_ are fucked. I'm on dish duty after this." Said the second.

"I swear the bastard grows more insane every single day."

"'Gotta agree with that. Letting your best workers go for not finding some chick? What a joke!"

"Listen here, I've been working for Campbell for nine years. Nine! Parties, conferences, showcases-- ya name it; I was there. Me and a whole 'lot of other guys. If we don't find this girl we're fucked to the moon and back. Shit, I'll probably have to go back to work in Tonawanda."

"I'm sorry to hear that, 'bud. You've got a good point, though. Firing you for not finding someone who probably doesn't exist? That's gotta be rough." The second adjusted some of the glasses on his plate. The first did the same as both prepared to leave.

"Honestly, _'The Woman In Gray'?_ It even sounds made-up! Like a comic book character or somethin'. How the hell can you send an invitation across the world with no address? It's a lost cause!" That was the conversation before they left. It was all you needed to hear.

Holy shit.

Your heart rate picked up, desperate to find those guys again. They could be the ones to lead you right to Campbell. Plus, you'd be saving the first guy a whole lot of trouble from the sounds of it.

A nudge came from your side. Engie looked as cheerful as ever. "Ready to start movin', Bee?"

Yikes, you had the _actual_ mission, too. You thought quick on your toes.

"I think I saw Demo and Pyro on the other side! I'll meet up with you guys in a bit. I'm going to freshen myself up in the restroom." With no response, you gave Engie one last smile and hustled the same direction those workers went.

You had a bitter remembrance... Those stupid earrings.

What were you to do? If you continue to wear them the Administration is sure to know something is up. It begged the question:

Do they have microphones?

Sighing with a facepalm, you regret not even having it cross your mind to ask. For this to work, you needed a plan. Somehow, someway, you needed to get those earrings off.

You searched around the room. There has to be some way to casually slip them out-- make it look like an accident. A nice perk would be free of any finger pain.

Nearby was another table. It held silverware wrapped in cloth napkins. You eyed them curiously. Walking over to the table, you picked a silverware set up and observed it.

You weren't sure what kind of material it was, but it could potentially be your ticket out. In the case the earrings did have a microphone, you hovered your hand to your ear. "Oh... _shit..."_ You hummed in false agony.

A female worker was walking by. You lifted your hand to get her attention. "Excuse me, miss, it's an odd question, but do you know what kind of cloth these napkins are made of?"

She was quite friendly. "Of course! All the napkins here are made of cotton."

Bingo.

"Oh, perfect!" You said relieved, "Sorry, it's just-- these earrings. They're starting to irritate my skin... I don't know if it's the dry air or... but I'm struggling to take them out. For some reason, they keep shocking me."

"That's horrible! Here, would you like me to take the backings out for you? Cotton may just do the trick. It's something about static electricity... I'm not sure. I just know you want to wear wool socks in the winter if you don't want to get zapped." She laughed. You returned with a grin.

"I would appreciate that... Thank you so much!" You sighed, handing her the wool napkin. She took it and began to unscrew them. You braced for the shock to travel through your body, but it never came. _It worked!_

When the woman finished she handed you the cloth containing the backs with a smile. "No problem, enjoy the rest of the party!" Parting ways, your pursuit carried on.

You pulled the fronts out with the cloth and covered them up. The deed wasn't done, yet. "Just gotta find a bathroom to check my ears..." You mumbled, mainly for the cameras.

The pieces of metals wobbled around in the cloth. This next part should be so precise that it could pass as realistic (if there was any realism left in your performance... It may have done it enough to take them off, even if they really _were_ bothering your ears). Directing the earrings, you guided them to the edge of the napkin. Like a pea, you popped one out from the side. As it fell to the floor, you picked up speed, tightly squeezing the other one.

There must be a restroom somewhere. If you could "accidentally" leave the other earring in there, then you would be free to do what you'd like. By then, it's just a matter of your team not discovering you.

Doors to the bathroom were in sight. You were closing in on them as the faces of the same workers passed by... 

... In the _opposite_ direction.

You changed routes. Their pace was quick; it was difficult to keep up while trying not to bump into anyone or look suspicious. They were walking to the entrance of the ballroom. Engineer stood at its corner, actively searching for you.

Quickly, you submerged into a bigger group of party guests. The crowd led back to the walls of the room. Luckily, it appears Engie did not spot you. 

But the workers were getting away!

You groaned. The final earring was still in your hand. To rid of the problem, you simply let the napkin slide from your grip. Driven in multiple directions at the same time was disorientating. You _thought_ that you were by the band, but some people had bumped into you, pushing you in a different way. Those workers faded within the crowd. Your only option was to stick to the walls, hoping that you would see them again. Passing through the center of the room was out of the question. Not for that queasy feeling to return.

After some searching, you found an open space. You took a minute to scavenge and make sure no one else from the team was around. The coast was clear; you ventured forth.

Determined to get to the staff as fast as you could, you picked up the pace. All your effort was to try to avoid as many roadblocks as possible to that entrance. A glimmer of hope sparked when you saw the arch of the hall. Large groups of workers gathered near it, welcoming anybody passing through. You were about to approach one member, a smile growing on your face.

A gentle voice from behind stopped you dead in your tracks.

"Excuse me, mademoiselle."

Stiffly, you turned half expecting who may be calling for you. Spy must have spotted you on your own. Great. 

To your surprise, it was somebody completely different. A napkin sat in his hands. Both earrings rested in the middle.

"I could not help but notice you dropped these."

"Oh." You said, not able to find any other words.

Who the hell was this guy? And how was he able to spot something as small as _earrings?_ He must have been following you for some time. That was... a slightly unsettling thought.

You evaluated his appearance. Dressed nicely, a given. His outfit was a royal blue color. Stylized black, but slightly curly hair, accompanied a masquerade mask covering most of his face. What stood out was the cologne he wore.

It was... familiar.

"They appear to be very valuable, so I assumed you would want them back. My apologies for any disturbance." He had an accent. A French accent.

"Spy...?" You questioned, hesitance in your voice.

His eyes darted away, shifting as he stood. From the lack of a response, it was a dead giveaway. In one quick motion, you swiped the napkin from his hands and let it drop to the floor. You stepped over it until you felt a pop beneath your shoes. With caution, you grabbed his wrist, pulling him away from the earrings.

"Spy! It's me, Backer!" You whispered, flipping up your mask to show your face.

He looked confounded. Drawing closer to you, he spoke with alarm. “Backer? What are you doing here?"

"I'm trying to find Campbell. What are _you_ doing here?"

He dodged your question. "You're not alone, are you?"

"Yes, well, no... But right now, yes. I'm trying to stay away from my team."

 _"Damn it,"_ Spy hissed, looking off to the side. "One wrong move by one of those _idiots_ and--" He shivered, cutting himself short. His eyes jumped back to you. "So you're _only_ here to find the Australium author?"

"Sort of," You tried to keep it brief. "Spy, I don't even know where to begin. So much has happened since we last saw each other." It was your turn to scan the room. The workers were no longer near the door. A tinge of disappointment overcame you... but hey, it was nice to see Spy again.

"We have all evening, ma chérie. Please, catch me up to speed." His hands went to your arms.

You directed him closer to the walls of the room. It was a potential place to have time to speak with him without obstructing the way of other party-goers. Though, familiar laughter rumbled nearby. Recognizable by the silly tone, it sounded like Soldier.

Spy picked up on it as well. "Perhaps we should move somewhere else?"

"Yeah, good call."

With your new company, the crowd felt easier to maneuver through. Thinking about the exchange you had with Engineer earlier, Spy _did_ fit in extremely well. Grace was in his step, forming a secure hold on your hand.

In an instant, you were near the opposite end of the ballroom, but Spy looked displeased. "I'm afraid we cannot stand in one place for too long. If there are nine other RED mercenaries about, they're bound to find you."

He was right. This made you ponder. If you couldn't stand in one place but still wanted to stay in the ballroom, where would you go?

Your thoughts carried with the orchestra's intensity. Groups once chatting in the center of the room retreated. Now, pairs of guests glided to the floor. The music paused, allowing any others interested to claim a spot.

A spark was in Spy's eye. You watched him intently as he developed a plan. Slowly, a smile tugged at his lips.

"If we cannot stand around," He took your hand.

_"We'll dance."_

Spy took the lead again, bringing you close to the dance floor. Your mind was in a flurry. "What? No. Spy, please... I can't dance."

That wasn't true. It was a requirement for you and the other mercenaries to learn a basic box step. You did perfectly fine... Standing in the center of the room is what made you worried.

"Really?" He raised a brow. "Then it will be my honor to teach you." 

You heard him chuckle quietly, pulling you to the floor's heart. You braced for the worst: the dizziness, the high-pitched strings, that god _awful_ scratching...

Swirls in your vision appeared; your palms growing warm. You swallowed down that disgusting lump in your throat and closed your eyes. You hated this. _**You hated this.**_

Spy's hold on your hand grew tighter, picking up on your restlessness. He suddenly stopped walking. "Open your eyes, mon amie."

The ballroom's lights were temporarily blinding. You looked to Spy. He faced you, his hand still firmly holding yours. From the open portion of his masquerade, you saw a warm smile.

It was astonishing. At that moment... your fear washed away.

He took your second hand. "There's no need to worry. I am here to help you."

You looked at him in awe. His eyes shut as he stood up straight, listening.

Silence still hung in the air. Nobody, not even the people who weren't dancing, made a sound. The idea of dancing with Spy made your stomach flutter. Sure, he was a friend, but stumbling as if you had two left feet felt like he would think less of you. _That_ idea in particular was terrifying. Again, you could not reason why.

Music filled the air once more. It was a slow, but elegant symphony. Spy swung you in the direction the rest of the crowd was going. Picking up on his movement, you reverted to the box step. You were on edge, one small change would throw your entire rhythm off.

Spy chuckled at your concentration. "You're doing fantastic. It should come naturally at any moment now."

You nodded, still training all your thoughts into your feet. Focusing on the music and mapping parts of the dance, you did find yourself getting the hang of it. Spy gave you a proud look.

He kept you close. The slowness of the music couldn't stop your pounding heart. Maybe it was the waltz itself; it isn't your type of dance. Or maybe, it was that keen look in Spy's eye.

"Did I mention that you look fantastic this evening? I feel rude for not saying it earlier." His voice was low, a near whisper as he got close to your ear.

You giggled, growing flustered by the second. "Thank you. You look quite _charming_ yourself." Putting some extra enthusiasm into 'charming' made Spy roll his eyes with a smile.

Even with your joking around, an unsettled feeling rested in your stomach. You couldn't help but remind yourself that you didn't belong here. Not amongst the rest of these deep pockets. It felt stupid, but you viewed them like they had x-ray vision: It was to detect the lack of wealth or sophistication that your name upheld. 

It was the truth, too. You should not have been there in the first place. Not by a legitimate invitation, at least. Thinking on it, maybe it was the threat of breaking your cover. _...Either_ cover. 

Spy's voice broke you from your brooding. "Now, if you think you can dance and talk at the same time, try explaining what's going on." He whispered.

"Alright, I'll try my best.."

From the night of the invasion until you ran into him, you told Spy everything. The scratches, the dream, the flyers, the waterfall, the earrings -- anything, everything you could remember came rushing back. Spy, for the most part, kept a neutral expression. He didn't want to side-track you, but by the look in his eye, he grew more disbelieved. Some occasions sprung up during your explanation, forcing you to pause. Whether it was a change in song, or when Spy or yourself had to step apart.

Spy nodded when you finished. "That explains a lot... And why you're hunting down Mister Campbell."

"Exactly. As I said, it sounds like he's trying to find The Woman In Gray. It's my best bet of getting to talk to him." You gazed off in a different direction for a moment, trying to find any staff. With none present, you returned focused. "My guess is you're here for the same reason my team is."

"Unfortunately, yes." He released a heavy sigh. "This mission became more challenging than I anticipated."

You didn't say much, knowing the awkwardness of it all. While you weren't as active in the main objective, a mission was still a mission. That meant RED versus BLU. Spy knew that. 

"Well," He started, "The least I can do is help you find Campbell. It concerns me that you are wandering _this_ place on your own."

"I mean, you don't have to. I can take care of myself."

"I know I don't have to do anything," A smile spread on his face. "but it is the most chivalrous thing I can do for my dearest Backer."

You grumbled, sighing teasingly. "If you say so, I guess. Welcome to the club."

"It's an honor to gain such admittance." He laughed. "Is it really a club if there's only two people?"

"If we're the neatest people in the room, then yeah!"

The music came to its final measures, ending in harmony. Dancers, including Spy and yourself, stopped and gave a bow or curtsey to their partner. People watching the dancefloor applauded. Spy moved closer to you.

"Now, what's your approach on finding this writer?"

"Before we ran into each other, I was following some of the employees. Maybe if we can find some of them they can lead us to where Campbell is."

"Hmm," He approved your idea. "Not bad... Have you seen any recently?"

"Not really," You shook your head. "But there's got to be a swarm of them somewhere!"

"Let's begin our search then." He offered an elbow, which you took gratefully. Spy moved a bit slower so you wouldn't bump into anything. Both of you watched the room, making sure you wouldn't miss their uniforms.

The floor grew congested. That nauseous feeling never came back, but it made finding staff challenging.

"Why did it get so crowded?" You asked. 

"I'm not sure," Spy said, looking for an explanation. "We should leave this room. It will be difficult to find anybody at this rate." He guided you to find a way to escape the pool. You watched all things and people that moved.

Cheering came from the band's side. What on earth could be happening _now?_

Without warning, the ballroom erupted into festive instrumentals. The music was quite the opposite of the waltz; it had a more energized and joyous feeling. It was a frenzy of horns, strings, and--

Wait, was that an accordion?

The hubbub was polka music!

From one wall to the next, the entire ballroom was celebrating. Many of the prim and proper couples dashed to the floor with their partner. Soon, Spy and yourself drowned in puffy dresses and long tailcoats.

Fun music and the happiness of the dancers was intoxicating. You grew ecstatic. On the other hand, Spy hinted at distress. His eyes frantically tried to find an exit point.

"Do you know how to polka?" You asked.

The look didn't leave his face. "Yes... but I--" He had to jump to the side. Somebody almost rammed into him. "... I'm not very fond of it. You prance around like a fool. I will find us a way to leave so we can find Campbell."

Somehow, Spy's worry was reassuring. It was nice to know this environment tested everyone's comfort, including him. Nobody's perfect.

"Isn't _all_ dancing just prancing around like a fool?" You quipped, poking a thumb to your chest. "I will make it _my_ honor that you enjoy it this time."

Your response caught Spy by surprise. He must have been thinking you wanted out. His eyes grew large, staring at you blankly.

You impersonated his voice. "Like you said: If we cannot stand around," This time, _you_ took hold of his hands.

**_"We'll dance."_ **

Taking the lead, you hopped into step. Polka offered creative liberty. You had forgotten the judgment that lingered in your mind. As for the dancers, their status meant nothing. Women, young and old, dragged their spouses around as if they were children again. Loud laughter enthralled the air. Comments like _'I can't remember the last time I danced like this!'_ passed from time to time.

Many guests were spinning, clapping, and doing their own moves that they thought matched the music. You swung with Spy in a simple box step until he matched your footing.

Shock was still etched on Spy's face. It stunned him. Spy wasn't a push-over, and he knew the last thing he wanted to do was dance to... this. In a normal scenario, he'd remove himself, express his disinterest, and walk off. By all means, this wasn't a normal scenario. No matter how much he wanted to eject himself, he couldn't pull away from you.

He didn't want to.

Seeing your energy, your smile, is what put Spy into better spirits. Subconsciously, he took hold of your waist. Cymbals began to crash to the song causing you to burst into laughter. 

It never failed to mesmerize him when you showed this much merriment. A grin rose on his face, allowing you to twirl once, twice, in his hands. From that point on, Spy and yourself switched turns incorporating something into the dance. Kicks here, or swinging by the hips there, moving forwards, backwards, any direction you managed space, you found yourself in the freedom the polka gave. You embraced the moment, thinking what made it special was watching Spy have fun.

Bystanders and some other dancers noticed the energy that came from your side of the room. Many of which stopped to clap to the rhythm and cheer the both of you on. You laughed at your new encouragement. From behind Spy's mask, he was laughing just as much. Neither of you could stop looking at each other. Your dancing was foolish, but it wasn't worth it to think how stupid you both looked. Save the embarrassment for later.

From one particular spin, you lost your balance, causing you to stumble back. Spy had a hold on your hand, tugging you towards him to stop you from falling. A bright flash from another part of the room blinded you for mere moments as you landed into Spy's hold.

"Are you alright?" He mumbled, drawing you to his chest.

You were a little shaken up from your trip. Being so close in Spy's hold always made you feel something you couldn't describe. The heat on your face returned. "Yes... Thank you."

He assisted you to your feet, taking hold of your hand and waist. You thought about the bright light. "Did you see that flash, too?"

"I did. That worries me a little."

You were starting to dance again until another flash flickered your way. It came from the opposite side of the room. Looking at the source stood a staff member. A third of his body carried a large, bulky camera. With attention drawn to him, he pulled away from the lens. He looked frightened. From his reaction, the pictures were definitely of you and Spy.

Uh oh.

A line of other employees dashed behind him, running to the band. The man with the camera fumbled before joining them. 

"Those are the employees!" You called, "C'mon!"

Not to raise skepticism, you danced to the area. You and Spy did a simple box step until you were close to the side. Homestretch!

Your stomach dropped.

On the side of your exit were three of your teammates. Scout, Sniper, and Engineer were staring right at you. You saw Scout's lips move, calling your name. Your heart pumped faster as they stepped forwards to greet you.

"Why can't anything be _easy?"_ You whined, looking up at Spy. "Change of plans. We can't go this way anymore."

"How come?" He asked, about to turn his head in the boys' direction. Urgently, you brought a gentle hand to his chin.

"Please," You begged, "Just trust me."

Spy stiffened. It triggered a fight or flight sense when someone reached for his face. He saw the panic in your eyes, though. Whatever was a danger to you, more than likely was a danger to him. His body relaxed, agreeing with an "... Alright." 

You led him in a different direction. Breaking free from the crowd, you stood before a large hall. The band's platform was to your right. By now, the music ended abruptly. Campbell's employees were tearing instruments, including the accordion, from the players' hands.

Polka must not have been on the agenda.

Staff plagued this hallway, conversing with one another. You scanned over the dozens of heads, trying to find any type of member you spoke with earlier that evening. There again was that bulky camera. The kid holding it and you made eye contact. His look of fear resurfaced as he rushed down the hall.

"Wait!" You yelled. He continued to run. Taking Spy by the hand, you followed his tracks.

The boy weaved up and down the halls. He didn't seem to have an ideal path; he was trying to lose you. Spy trailed behind, unsure what you were chasing after. Then, he saw the camera. God knows what would happen to those photos; something Spy could not afford to hurt him. His pace quickened, running beside you.

A flight of stairs later, plush velvet doors awaited. The kid made enough distance to open the door and slam it shut. You reached the door and began to bang on it. Spy was next to you, huffing to catch his breath.

"Let us in, you worm!" You shouted, kicking at the door. It was your turn to pant. Your ankles were killing you. The last thing you expected was that much running in the shoes you chose.

The door wouldn't budge.

When your heart rate lowered, you shouted again. "We just wanted to talk to you. Now you're hiding like a coward!"

Using a rude tone destined for no response. The chatter from the ballroom downstairs echoed in the silence of your scolding. Spy approached you from behind, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"If we step away, perhaps.." He started to suggest but stopped himself. Neither you nor he wanted to leave that door until it opened or that kid came out. His hand still kept on you, giving a small but soothing pat.

"No, you're right." You answered. As much as it pained you, there's no value in standing in front of a door all night. "Maybe we can find someone else to talk to. They can tell the camera guy there was a mix-up and--"

You fell silent from the rattling of the door handle. Stepping back, the doors creaked open. The ceiling of the room was high, _extremely high._ Two large men blocked the entrance, making it impossible to see the whole room.

Both studied you and Spy. A cold look rested on their faces. They didn't say anything, filling the gap with uncomfortable silence. After a few moments, it became too much. You opened your mouth to say something until you were cut off.

"Are you the woman in this photo?" One of the men asked, holding up a tiny picture. It was the second snapshot of you and Spy. The photo was a little grainy, but still enough to see your figure.

"Why do you ask?" Spy answered for you, wariness dripping in his tone.

The guy holding the photo gave Spy a nasty look before turning to his buddy. They nodded in some silent agreement, turning back to you.

"Martin Campbell has been searching for someone with the alias The Woman In Gray all evening. Would that happen to be you?"

Meeting eyes with Spy, you knew there was only one obvious answer. You spoke up. "Yes, that would be me."

"That would make you The Man In Blue, huh?" The talkative man said, glaring at Spy. Wow. He observed how your "names" coordinated with your outfits. 

"I suppose that would."

"How appropriate." The man replied flatly.

Satisfied with your answers, they parted to each side of the door. "You're welcome to enter. Mister Campbell is waiting to meet you."

You started walking in. Spy followed, but the men rushed to block the path again. "He requests to _only_ meet with The Woman In Gray. Man In Blue, you'll have to stay out here."

Spy waved you over. You stepped to the side so you could talk to him privately. He didn't look happy.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Backer?" Spy questioned, eyeing the guys at the door. "I get a very... _strange_ feeling about this set-up."

You smiled. "Spy, this is what I've-- _we've_ been looking for!" You whispered, following Spy's eyes to the door. "Whatever is on the other side of that door _can't_ be that bad. Everything will be fine, I promise."

His eyes flickered down to you, concentrating on any portion of your face he could see. He took a sharp inhale, a troubled look still on his face. With hesitation, he answered. "Okay. If this is what you wish, then I won't stop you." 

He placed both hands on your wrists and raised them. "I will be around. Don't get yourself killed or anything ludicrous like that."

The dryness in his humor couldn't help but make you chuckle. "If I can survive a machete attack, I think I can handle this." His hands slid off as you approached the door. 

"Alright," You breathed. "I'll go."

They nodded, making room for you through the door. "Welcome, _Woman In Gray."_ Both gestured for you to enter.

You glanced to look at Spy one last time. He stood from a distance, his hands behind his back. A small smile was on his face, still riddled with unease. You waved, disappearing through the doors.

The ceiling had more of those intricate biblical-styled paintings. At the top stood a domed window, engulfed by the night sky.

Your thoughts wandered, thinking of the possibilities this meeting might open. Will all this confusion come to an end? Campbell, for what it's worth, was the most knowledgeable person on Australium.

Well, the most knowledgeable person on Australium that you _knew_ of.

It was at that moment Spy's tone caught up with you. A chill running up your spine remembering the disturbance in his voice. You shook it away; your thoughts were getting the best of you. Of course, this is what you wanted. No doubt in your mind. ... None at all...

The doors to the room flung shut, echoing to the stone vault. Startled, you jumped. Both doormen approached you. 

"This is just a closed-off room. Mr. Campbell is this way." They took charge and led you across the space.

Another plush door was on the other side. This one had floral patterns of roses and others with a red tint. One revealed a key, working with the look.

"Y'know, I got a good feeling about this one." He muttered to his friend.

With a click, the one with the key opened the door for you. A hardened smile peaked through his lips. "She may be the real deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I refuse to make translations for words I constantly use smh-- BUT I'm gonna still say it cuz it's apart of my shtick (andtherewillobviouslybethingslaterdowntheroadduh) 
> 
> Anyways, see you all soon!


End file.
